I’m Right Here

I’m here. I’m here. I’m right here…and I am not well

 

Squatting in the ashes, scraping festering sores

And there you are…right there

Cold eyes deliberately unseeing

Cadaverous hearts, pickled and pristine

 

I would cherish any of you to sit with me where I am

Even as Job’s friends, whether mute or fumbling

To try and make sense of failure and despair

But no…you will not acknowledge me here

 

Denying my family – YOUR FAMILY – so much as a scrap

The affection and resources you lavish on dogs

Days became months turned to years spent right here

Silently screaming, staring at your backs turned…right there

 

I’m here. I’m here. I’m right here…and I am not well

 

 

2 thoughts on “I’m Right Here

  1. I JUST posted the comment/photo I did on FB, before seeing this…love you so, believe utterly in you in all your gloriously flawed perfect covered in grace-ness, and with you now, then, and always.

    In all your unwellness you are utterly healthy, for you are being delivered of all that would chain you, all dreams that would delude you…rob you of true eternal riches, riches that are indeed edible here, touchable here, riches that have nothing to do with wealth as the world divvies it out.

    They root in the mud and shit for scraps and call it feasting at the table…they are not even capable of anything else because having eyes they do not see and ears, they do not hear.

    The time is coming when the leanness of your soul will be revealed as the leanness of heart and spirit that makes you fit to run, and to run like a goddam banshee shot out of a cannon…with the power to pull the lame along and the speed to run the strong into the ground.

    Do not grow weary in well-doing my love…do not grow faint.

    Every drop of blood in me screams the worthiness of the reduction…I promise.

    Much love…
    me

    Like

  2. Reblogged this on Charissa's Grace Notes and commented:
    This is my friend, a fellow human being whom I have connected to thru the miracle curse of social media (or is it a cursed miracle?).

    This is my sister, made so by blood and by bearing of burdens…the blood of the afflicted crying out on the ground, the blood on the hands of the wolves in sheep’s clothing, the Blood of The Crucified Christ Above All…

    This is my litter-mate, born from the Heart of our Mama, Great Holy Spirit by Whom the Lord Themself created all things, she who laid blind by Mama and my side as we snuggled, nursed, and gained our sustenance on the same Mama’s milk…

    This is my shield-maiden and battle companion, fighting the wars of Joy relentless against the sandstone of hate…

    This is a friend, a wife to one true man, a mother to giants who can fit into the smallest of cottages and fill up a palace…this is a feeder of hungry, the scourge of the sated, and a singer of the Praises of The Worthy One who was slain and is now Risen…

    This is a Lucy, an Eowyn…

    This is a blessed bumbly dork who is learning the freedom of no pretence and utter reveling in joy…

    I love her…my Friend, Jennifer Dickenson

    Like

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