winter sun
by Elouise
winter sun pierces
my paralyzed heart waking
frozen grief at will
* * * * *
Buried deep, forgotten
Denied, minimized, ignored
Silenced, unexamined
Held at bay
‘It wasn’t that bad’
‘Others had it worse’
Ashamed of my own story
Just another privileged woman
Who doesn’t get it
Afraid to shine a light
On darkness that seems
To have overpowered me
You mean you’re this old and
You still haven’t gotten over it
Beyond it, done already?
Normal
We want normal
How much longer will this take. . . ?
Winter sun does its work
In the fullness of God’s time
Not one moment sooner
Haiku written 25 February 2014
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 26 February 2014
Telling the Truth 
Beautifully written and painfully true.
LikeLike
Thank you, Betty.
LikeLike
My heart wants to give you a hug. You have expressed it/life well. When will the healing be complete? Will I never stop feeling the pain?
LikeLike
Your hug just found a home in my heart!
LikeLike
visit your blog, read an interesting article. thank you friends for sharing and greetings compassion 🙂
LikeLike
thank you for visiting. compassion gratefully received.
LikeLike
You are engaging in self-compassion. Attempting to understand the suffering you REALLY endured. Of course you are afraid. Aren’t we all?
LikeLike
I think you’re right about the fear. Over 25 years ago I shared with a number of trusted friends just some of what my childhood had been like. Their responses astonished me. At that time it still seemed ‘not that bad.’ I think I’m finally beginning to get it. Learning to take care of that little girl inside me who needs attention and yes, tons of compassion.
LikeLike
Beauty, truth and hope. Your story and vulnerability are powerful signs of shalom. Hallelujah. Thank you for this gift.
LikeLike
You’re so very welcome.
LikeLike
What a beautiful poem, Elouise, and what an apt metaphor. The opening reminds me of T.S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, where dull, buried roots are stirred by spring rain. Awakening can be painful, indeed. Thank you for your bravery, shedding light in the dark places. We all have them, but few of us are brave enough to examine them. It takes even greater bravery to share them publicly as you are doing.
Sending another virtual hug your way. To echo Mr. Rogers, “Thank you for being you!”
LikeLike
Oh Nancy, thank you for your affirmation, your virtual hug and the line from Mr. Rogers. Just wonderful.
LikeLike