A map for the journey: Prayer to a Rock

I'm back. This is fun.

I've been writing poems since I was about nine. I love words and rhymes and nonsense poems. The trigger for my differentiation was moving close to my mom, who was dying of ovarian cancer. I moved, I hoped we'd have a year, I watched her walk and knew we wouldn't and she died 5 1/2 months later. It has made a mess of May: her birthday is the 31st, she died on the 15th and there we have Mother's Day and Memorial Day, how nice.

Anyhow, I wrote this poem two years after she died. It was one of those poems that just pops up for me, like my unconscious is some sort of whacko toaster. Put enough stuff in and eventually something pops out. In retrospect it is rather a map for my individuation, but certainly my conscious brain didn't know that. I really did do the run, though, and sang to the eagle and had the confusion about the footprints. That still seems peculiar but perhaps when the Self is battling the Ego it uses whatever is at hand.

Here it is:


Prayer to a Rock

I went running
along the sunny beach
and ran into shadow

I kept running even though
there was beach with sun
because the shadow felt right
I ran towards a dead snag
Huge rocks were scattered on the beach

I stopped and placed my palms on one
And asked the rock to take away my grief
And then thought, no, that wasn’t right
I asked the rock to lend me its strength during grief
I ran on

I took some comfort that there were
footprints in the sand
Someone had preceded me

I ran to the snag
an eagle sat on top
I sang America the Beautiful
to the eagle
and bowed
when I looked again
the eagle soared, wings spread, out of sight

I turned to run back
and now there were only my footprints
I thought I’d imagined the other set
in my grief
Then I passed the woman and her dog
who now were tracing my footsteps
I had passed them
I ran within my grief
I let it rise
and dissipate

I stopped twice more at rocks
One to change my prayer again
ask the rock to inspire me with its strength
Once to thank the rocks
I passed from the shadow
again into the light

3/3/02

Yours,
Red Paw