A Yoga Room

Not in the consulting room

does heart break

but in the footsteps walking away

in the closing of the car door.

Would you find me in the deepest valley,

the ease of sleep unbounded,

or softly walking alongside?

The torrents dry

and deserts return;

is there sweetness in an empty road?

Every other beat of my heart forever;

you will never come to be

‘As a mother’ and other

phrases of daggers;

build a ten foot wall in-between

I have a yoga room in my house

I turn my head away

when prams roll by,

at babies’ cry,

at invitations, congratulations

The screaming agony of birth never to be

Because I couldn’t make you exist,

not even for a second,

the meaning of everything

tumbles, tumbles away

Hand in hand through meadows of flowers;

warmth of sun and laughter.

You can be perfect:

no earthly woes or weariness

will ever touch you.

Just running, gambolling along,

smiling up at me;

your mother who never was.

The idyllic can meet my pain

and create with it

a paradise of daydreams.

To a life unlived, unseen

what can I give?

To live as if I am precious too

To live as I am precious too

Primrose