at the end of my dream
was really a nightmare
just beginning ...
for the name of the man
was visiting at our place
"Maya, " maybe
for my Son not to leave
was feeling to be not sure
a stranger now there
looking at my son eyes
was seeing his pain
behind a smile
the name of his and asked
was he going to take my son
hearing a warning
my child never returning to me
was being led astray by a man
awake now with my senses keen
was a warning to hold onto love
before joy leaves
the child inside that speaks truth
was spiken to me in a dream
of real life
Right now, I want so badly, to run into that messy bedroom that my young, confused teen refuses to clean. Only with my help. To tell him that he is safe and i will protect him with my heart - even though it has been hurting a lot, lately.
Before, I fell asleep, an hour and a half ago, I saw an image of my mom, and knew how she must have felt when i went away at the age of 17, with an older man who offered me chinese food, which I loved. Next thing you know, I was accepting a weekender trip to a nice hotel in Seattle, where he pampered me.
I think I was still a virgin and I had no intention of ever sleeping with this guy who worked for B.C. Tel and lived in a posh apartment, paid for by his company. I stayed in a big duplex, with my mom who was very tired and ill. Everyone of my 4 younger siblings had been taken away. And, i was all alone or feeling as such.
After my exotic trip, away from the pretty little Valley and Chilliwack, I came home with a suitcase full of gorgeous clothes from my admirer. He told me that he would like to take me with him, to Portland, "the city of roses," next. That morning when he came to me, sleeping. Bringing me a gift, on his knees. A gold chain. Telling me that if I went away - again, "I would have to sleep in the same bed."
Before going back to sleep, this morn, all I finally knew,was that my Mother must have been terrified for me. One day, I looked in my jewellery box and my sparkling gift was broken apart into 3 or 4 golden strands. Just as my Mother's heart must have been, before she tore my rope of lies, into the same sanest pieces of her own breaking valentine. What else could she do?
I know what i can do. Hug my child, even if he is a teen. Don't rebuff him when he pisses me off, for the umpteenth time. Even if he seems like the walking unconscious, far too much for my liking. Celebrate when he is alive with passion and purpose. And, talk to him, even when I don't want to. Sleep well, yet, remember not to slumber .. as others .. may find out 'his number.'
Life can be so much 'work.' When we are feeling so utterly damaged, we can bury our head in the sands of time. Next thing yo know, we're jolted awake and everyone around us is dead and gone. Savour the good stuff. And see the 'bad' for what it is - often a warning or representation. Choose the right path and stay on it. Align rather than malign. Sweet is better than sour and surely, more eternally sublime.
i love you, dearest boy of mine.
With the belief that we each create our own world.
And, the power to make mine 'Supernatural."
Holding onto Love,