In sanguine chador,
with a hint of cerulean
sky on her brow,
here is a girl
whose horrific suffering
is offset by her reflection.
She models the grace
we all doubt but long for,
that we can dare to keep our innocence
in the presence of our tragic wounding;
that our courage could be so great
as to look ourselves
in the face of our deepest pain
and remain standing,
remain whole, with our compassion intact.
With the divine spark in us
still capable of igniting
our deepest hidden ambition
to incarnate uniquely
here in this place,
here in this time,
leaning into that which we cannot feel
any other way than by crashing into it.
And the poet, silently bearing witness
from an earth-colored bed,
catches in a glimpse,
that ephemeral spark
dancing its lightning-fast,
almost imperceptible jig
between the implicate
hidden urge to exist
and the quiet blooming of life
emerging as this being comes of age.
This poem comes from a recent dream. It feels very potent, poignant and important to share in the form of a poem that describes the image received in a dream contained in a poem. This gives me hope and added faith that by making art and poetry, we may somehow, by grace, mitigate even horrific suffering in the world while maintaining the innocence we must embody in order to keep seeing the world whole anew in spite of great challenges to our faith and in the presence of continuing tragedy. Perhaps an image will follow. In the meantime, I will include the image nearest to my body while dreaming all of this.
Bearing ©Honor Woodard 2006
