Tiptoes

[IntoTheLight]

Quietly, on tiptoes, we cover the grass,
we flee to find refuge, and safety at last…
Nestled safely, securely, beneath green leafy arms,
face hidden inward, we await the sun, our alarm.
Rising cautiously, we hesitate, but make our way,
back to the place to begin our day.
Down into the valley along the stony lane,
the bakkie groans…it knows the pain.
Of the secrets, curled up inside our bones,
which stay safely inside, far from life…all alone.
It will be over soon, there will be a moment to breathe,
As we gallop tenderly home, with our heart on our sleeve…
The strength of the tears we fought so hard to hold in,
pour helplessly out like a rusty old tin.
They gather, in puddles on our lap in a heap,
Warm, safe arms wrapped around us, we hear his heart beat.
The day wears on…the sun high up above,
called inside for cucumber sandwiches, to pretend all is love
In the doorway of dread, we retreat back to our hay
we climb into ourselves to escape for the day.
The moon begins its rising, the dread starts to soar,
our head and our heart and our limbs, they all roar,
In anticipatory longing for the sun to arrive,
to forget the nights candles, its humming, its knives.
We climb up on our bed and retreat into a hole,
knowing whats coming, please no, not our soul…
The darkness creeps inside our head, as we sleep,
to awake from the creek of boards under the feet
Of the one who steals our childhood, our innocence, our dreams
he strips them from us as he bursts at the seems.
We climb into ourselves, willing the torment to end,
so we can tiptoe through the veld to be safe, yet again.

[earthhorse]

Thank you for this vivid and powerful poem of theft, loss, and life lived in stolen moments. I hate the person who hurt you. EH