Two Poems, One Day

Group Meditation

I have no poem in my soul

today.

My words have run

away

to where I will not follow

now

But my heart shouts while I

meditate

with my heavy head and the

tears

that keep falling all over

themselves 

as I leave them burning 

my face

The shame refusing to erase 

the sting 

only i can feel as I close

These eyes

Afraid to make waves

In the still 

of a room full of silence

Shared, 

I do not dare to stain the sacred

Integrity 

I thought to call it

Solidarity

She holds that word

For now not here

not wanting this

Breath

But even with how she chokes

My voice 

and how he tells me again

I have lost

I forget the defeat

I force to let go of forcing

I embrace what I do not desire

But Know

and Now

We agree

Without speaking

Many are holding

One

---------------------------------------------------------

Listen to You

I feel deceived and betrayed by

You

But somehow I see and understand

why you do what you do

I can be with this pain, and then 

set it aside

I still believe you can be found

and find

whatever it is deep inside that 

I recognize in myself, a bit

that I see you seeking in places of pain. 

what you won't find in fiercely connecting 

to what will not give

More than a mirror can offer

to itself

What will not nurture the place where you need

a mother, a giver, a healer, a guide

Whatever it is in you that wants

to be noticed 

and needs to be loved

has opened up to me

and I fell into you

in a way that you didn't need

Maybe stepping back and

offering distance

I can be someone there for you

still

I can be the adult,

if you insist

But even more than that

I hope 

You will 

Listen to You

What is already known

under the layers

and layers 

you think are your skin

Release them from 

Protecting what no longer needs

a shield

What now asks to be

Revealed

Walk away from the 

trap

Walk into a place for real love

Real Lovers

You Love

*Mary Anne Stewart, January 2017

*Both poems were completed on January 13, 2017. They were written as one poem, but then it seemed there was a natural place to divide them into two.