Meeting the Wounded Woman

author's note:

Highly recommended: The Fisher King and the Handless Maiden, by Robert A. Johnson.


MEETING THE WOUNDED WOMAN

After waking from the sight
of a wounded woman
knee-deep in a dark swamp...

I remembered what I'd read:

the "she" a man meets
in his dream
lives within him.

But though still alive
my receptive side
obviously didn't feel so well--
after all, she'd lost a hand.

But how and when?--
I did not know...

however as I pondered
the blank shock
in her blue eyes
I began to feel
what she must have felt
during whatever crime
caused the loss--
what she still feels
in the long aftermath:

horror at a savagery both rabid
and casual--
stunned confusion
at an injustice unpunished.

I could feel
the frozen fire
of her righteous anger

but also sensed
warm moist ashes of grief
beneath that ice.

I then understood why
a violent dream may follow
a routine mundane day:

if forced to confront
our deep wounds
during the waking hours
how could we complete transactions
or work with movable parts?

But we don’t occasionally confront
and deal with that truth
those wounds may kill us.

So, I need my horrific dreams--
painful though the awakening may be
I need to dream of a woman
missing a hand.

I can shelf that secret
in the back room
while I'm totaling receipts

then afterward
return to learning
how to heal the life
that gives me life.

Progress is slow, of necessity
but when I feel discouraged
I think of the green lizard dream:

how the little fellow sang with joy
because he'd finally managed
to grow his tail back--

he sang of sensitivity regained
he sang of better balance--
such fun, being functional!

That regeneration
must've cost a lot of energy
but what a return--
his song sounded so strong!

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook