house-bound dog
by Elouise
house-bound dog peers out
at park space green trees people–
front door closed locked barred
* * * * *
I grew up with a fierce need to be right,
a heavy dose of fear and
a belief, a conviction,
a certainty beyond all doubt that I need to be better than you are.
Even though I’m lost in loneliness,
fear and shame.
I never say out loud ‘I’m better than you are.’
That would be rude, proud, arrogant.
But in my heart I know I’m right.
How else can I survive and not be branded
One of Them?
A good ‘pure’ young girl on the outside,
a terrified, overly cautious and painfully proud girl on the inside.
You might be having more fun than I am right now,
but I’m on the inside
and you’re on the outside–
lost and wandering,
perhaps lovable and fun to be with,
but out in the cold
no matter what season it is.
Unlocking and opening the barred door
to let you in or even risk
going outside
to enjoy your company, go for a walk
or have a conversation
takes an effort that sometimes eludes me even now.
Liberation is costly.
Even God couldn’t give it away.
Haiku written 19 July 2012
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 10 June 2014
When I read your blog posts, I always feel like you’re hearing my silent murmuring and giving it a haunting poetic voice. I don’t often comment, but know that I am nodding my head at times, often with tears of understanding and a lovely peace.
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Your comment brings tears to my eyes. Thank you for reading and thank you for commenting.
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Wow, what an incredible metaphor! You are such a gifted poet, Elouise, and I’m glad you were able to unlock those barred doors.
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Thanks, Nancy. The dog is real — I’ve seen him multiple times when I’m walking. He always seems much happier out in the park with his owner, than locked up in the house overlooking the park, surveying all the wondrous life he’s missing! So I wrote a little haiku about him and his dilemma–with which I could identify.
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It is something, isn’t it, to grow in grace as the years unfold? The older I get, the more I realize I don’t know. The older I get, the more beautiful the Gospel becomes, the bigger the Cross gets, the more cherished I believe I am. Thank you, Elouise, for this.
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Christan, You’re welcome, and thanks for reading and commenting. I find myself with much to grieve, and tons of gratitude for healing and growth in grace I never even knew I needed.
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