Hiraeth

Katrina Pallon Art – Blooms of Grief

I .

The world is asleep within me; in a deep comforting slumber my bones crackle with weariness. I’ve been numb. As if this body, these arms, thighs and

the muscle and bone, these fingers and skin 

the turns and undulations of my hips, my back heavy –  

they are no longer capable to grasp any sensation. 

Pain is the only thing that bonds, still holding.

A confirmation that I can still feel. The rest is anaesthetised. Uncurious to possibility. Quiet. 

On days like this I hold with both palms this unfamiliarity. I know my darkness bears within her a treasure. I tend to this paralysis like a gardener tends to the seed, buried and concealed. I am certain it holds meaning. 

I yearn for the solitude of nature. 

* * *

II.

I step back into my body. One foot at a time, like a mother dressing her child at dawn. I need to be here, here now. This body is a vessel craving to be filled – words and waves, sea salt in every crevice, song and silence, my blood will flow with stories, meaning, purpose. Painting each day into existence, I must love this body, these eyes. Now I understand, I am not the creator but a mere instrument, a paintbrush, I am the way itself. There is no secret or grandiose revelation to joy. I have searched my whole life for it – to be loved skin-deep, a solid undeniable love. It was always right here, within, on the tip of my fingers, lodged in my hair – behind my ear, like a kiss from a secret lover retaining its softness long after it’s gone. 

Today brings in me a humbleness, for I am merely another voice through which god expresses the miraculous. All it takes is a sacred listening, the unhurried paying attention to the tiny miracles that unfold right here every moment. Noticing how the trees receive me gladly, the river cleanses, inviting flow; noticing the abundance of love opening within each bud, petals. A safety from the roots, the wind’s constant song. An acceptance that being awake entails loneliness in exchange of becoming this receptacle of light, my purpose, an offering in itself. 

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