For too long, I was asleep.
I awoke at twenty-seven,
on a leafy autumn sidewalk
in the West End, liberated
from my sham of a marriage
into a whole other season.
The jackals gathered,
sensing my vulnerability.
Was it a hallucination,
those next three years?
They had come to warn me,
but I was not whole enough
to understand.
They had come to warn me,
but I was not whole enough
to understand.
I am far beyond them now.
The hyenas stopped circling
and howling long decades ago.
The phantoms from those days
no longer visit my dreams.
Instead,
a big black wolf appears,
a big black wolf appears,
his eyes looking straight
into my soul. He smiles,
and I awaken, my heart
a vagabond until the day
we meet again.
Your life story, Sherry, and look who's at the center of it. Pup! Pup the Magnificent! <3
ReplyDeleteThis is marvellous!
ReplyDeleteI awakened around age 35, and totally relate to every word of your poem! Cheers.
ReplyDeleteI am glad that the phantoms from those days no longer visit your dreams.
ReplyDeletePerfect. Well done.
ReplyDeleteI relate too. Widowhood is similar. One grieves, grieves, grieves some more, then grieves some more, and finally comes to feel that one has shed most if not all the tears one has to shed in this lifetime...and life's still worth living, while it lasts.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Sherry. I love the journey and awakening you share with us <3 Love the phrase "vagabond heart."
ReplyDeleteOur dear pups! ♥️ I often wonder, how could I be me without you? I have been blessed with a few faithful fur friends in this life. May I never forget that serene, loving feeling of a leg-lick.
ReplyDelete