Every cut, every scrape,
Every tear and every heartbreak,
Each misgiving we have;
Are all etched into our bodies, inside out --
The first time I had brain surgery,
At 10 months young urgently,
Mum said she had to hold me so tight,
for hours after...
I screamed and I screamed and I screamed
until I was done.
Fighting the body tremors,
Eventually, I calmed as she sang.
Other scars came, later in life,
heroes of sporting accidents,
But I didn't notice.
Until the AVM surgery in my 30’s,
All these scars broke loose,
surrendering in truce --
Resulting in a devastating stroke,
After a novel surgeon made a wrong poke,
And a 40-day coma ensued.
Eventually waking up --
Numb and in shock,
All senses were blocked;
I couldn't hear,
I couldn't see,
I couldn't walk,
I couldn't talk.
Shut down; in hell --
No tears,
No murmurs,
No gargles,
No squawks.
Just numbness.
Even now, as I write, my body remembers --
Sending shivers and tremors
Of that dreadful season,
Seeded from birth without reason.
Eventually,
I walked,
And re-learned how to talk.
Accept my joy and pain as I regained
Mobility,
Hearing,
Sight,
And much later, insight --
But -- the grief is still stored in my heart.
Through poetry I've tried,
To make sense of and write,
Every grain and offence,
To help me re-build, lengthen and strength.
I pay homage --
To you, my body,
Tested and true,
Though no beauty queen,
You are a fine machine,
That doesn't give up,
But writes a new score;
One of the treasures I adore!
When I open my eyes and truly see
The wonders in this world,
outside and inside of me.