Living with illness teaches me to listen. It requires the hushing of “doing” and accepting the quiet of “being”. I have learned to listen more closely not only to the voices of others, but to the whisper of my heart and most of all to that which speaks infinite wisdom without saying a word…silence.
Is My Soul Asleep
By, Antonio Machado
Is my soul asleep?
Have those beehives that work
In the night stopped? And the water-
Wheel of thought, is it
Going around now, cups
Empty, carrying only shadows?
No, my soul is not asleep
It is awake, wide awake.
It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,
Its eyes wide open
Far-off things, and listens
At the shores of the great silence.
I came across Trudy’s blog -Joyful Wrecks-and her poem “Apology to My Hair” and had to share it. Trudy is going through cancer treatment, yet joy, inspiration and humor flow through her blog. My hair thanks you Trudy, for finally being appreciated!
Apology To My Hair
I was never satisfied with you
too fine
too straight
too unruly
the way you parted yourself
too close to the middle
the way you stuck out at the back and sides
always slightly dishelved.
I would have preferred
thick
curly
manageable hair
the kind you see in the glossy magazines.
Now that you’re gone
I see I took you for granted
never appreciated your fine qualities
the many ways you served me
how you
warmed my scalp
protected my head
softened my face
flattered my person
reassured me by your daily presence.
I blamed you for bad hair days and took credit for good ones.
When you return
there will be
no more complaints
no more criticism of what you lack
any colour will do
texture too.
You will see
how I have learned
to appreciate
YOU
(Trudy, Joyful Wrecks)
