Journey to Your Deepest Self

Blaming Rage

By Kathleen MacGregor The first thing I want to do Is blame you. I can’t find my keys And I’m running late. It’s your fault. I knock over the wine glass, Which you set on the counter, I blame you. You’re not even here But it’s your fault. And because you’re not here, Which I blame you for, I can see that I’m mad at myself. For losing track, for being late for breaking a glass. So I rage alone. Stomping my feet, cursing and yelling, I begin to feel Afraid. The old fear has always been there beneath the anger. Habitual rage, lashing out and blaming comes first, When I am really scared. Scared that you’re not here. Scared to be yelled at for running late. Scared to be hit for breaking a glass. Afraid of the consequences that will come down on me Any moment. Now I know it was a little girl Not me now. Me then. Now I can finally Let myself feel raw and afraid and I can say I was really feeling scared today Can we hold each...

6ish

By Kathleen MacGregor He keeps me posted As to his whereabouts. He calls to say I’m leaving here in 20 minutes. I’ll be home by 6ish At the latest. I won’t be home for dinner. I’ll be late But not too late To kiss everyone goodnight. I’ll be there in time to make dinner. I’m not coming home tonight. I’m coming over Burke Hill Be there in 10 minutes. Don’t worry about me, I’ll take care of myself. I won’t be home for dinner. Will you keep something warm? He is my satellite Signaling his presence , his attention, his...

There You Would Be

That there wouldn’t be time That I would have to hurry That I would forget things That I would be late That I would be messy That I wouldn’t have brushed my hair That my clothes would be wrinkled That I would be shaking That I would be running With one shoe on Parts of me bouncing That I would be dropping Important things onto the ground Leaving a trail That I wouldn’t be good enough When I got there That I would be breathless And sweaty That when I got there There you would be Smiling and loving The wildness of...

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<p >by Kathleen MacGregor <p...

Nurturing Love’s Presence

Love has been so elusive Fleeting moments of respite from the desert of night I wait for my gentle lover to come to me Not knowing if he exists or ever did I wait holding on to the quiver of love The small flame that lights up my darkness I wait and nurture that flame As all that I have All that keeps me alive In the dark of the night So cold I shiver Urging myself to stay present In the not knowing What will come Knowing that the flame is all that matters And nurturing that inside of...
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