The Grace to Be

I feel like I have sunk into a place where I have been stuck for 20 years after I lost my career and life due to my poor mental health. I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder and I now also suffer from anxiety disorder and OCD. I now have a psychotherapist, so we are dealing with the root of my emotions and behaviour patterns in a hope to move forward. I feel many people reach rock bottom but it is a chance to evaluate your life and make changes which are more positive. Sometimes you have to listen to your soul and intuition!

We are
Not magic porridge pots.
We scoop the need to be
unlimited vessels of energy,
Spooning more and more
until we reach the dregs
and then we fall into the pot
and drown in our incapacity.

Empty pots.
We smash them
with our shaking hands.
Shards of piercing ceramics,
on our fractured dreams they land.

Broken hearts,
broken minds.
Broken promises,
a life we left behind.
Plucking bubbles of hope
from the sun-risen air.
And I am there.
Chewing on fallen dreams.

Sometimes it’s time
to become an empty vessel.
Release the stress.
Stop the wheel of fortune,
before it spins into
an irreversible mess.

Stop!
Think!
Release!
Heal!
Revaluate!
Feel
your soul’s cry.
Ask yourself
Why? Why?
And what?

Before the fortune
comes the fall.
Pick yourself up,
hear your spirit call.
You can be free!
Just bless yourself
with the grace
to be.

Sarah Drury

Ava

Twenty stone of unadulterated Goddess
Bones embellished with beauty
Heart as full as a cherry blossom in Spring
Each cascading petal the lips of
Venus planting kisses on the weary
and troubled
Compassion is her gift that’s doubled
within her sacred soul

Ava went to the pool one day
Gracious, bountiful stature
Ignorance cruising to bruise her
Modest, mindful, marvellous,
Measly, mocking men, miserable males
making misogynist mallarky
Ava, in her infinite wisdom
whispers
‘I am what I am’

‘She’s fat, she’s farmyard fodder
Hairy legs disgust me
Stomach like a pregnant whale
Who would woo a whore
while wishing for
a wanton wank
Never seen as ugly
and her armpits stank
Ava, in her infinite wisdom
whispers
‘I am what I am’

Men being fools, being stupid
Flirting with the girls, playing cupid
Stupid is what stupid does its true
Diving in, showing off
Haven’t got a clue
Till tragedy struck
Man hits head and oh fuck
What do we do, what do we do?

Ava could have turned a blind eye
She could have looked up to the sky
and said karma, you get what you give
You mess up, you die
You spend your days in states of grace
You flow, you live
Ava, in her infinite wisdom
whispers
‘I am what I am’

Twenty stone of goddess
Her mermaid tale she wears
Forgetting the taunts and the cruelty
Saving souls she smoothly sails
In sanguine stars of shining saviours
Man finds breath of life within
this once monstrosity
And she stands there
Shining like a lighthouse
in a sea of misogynists
Ava
in her infinite wisdom
whispers
‘I am what I am’

This smattering of
shit on the sole of her sanctity
Their scathing tongues
are scarred with silence
In their mocking eyes
cataracts of prejudice are stripped
with non-judgmental fingers
Their taunts and wicked words
should linger
But
Ava’s words
echo in whispering mantras
‘I am what I am’

©2020 Sarah Drury