Sizzles between air molecules
In spaces intended for patience and love.
Two-year-old Alice, impatient for food
Punctuates the room with a crescendo of piercing cries.
You are in the kitchen cooking a dinner that refuses to cook…
The Protector is away on retreat.
My seven year-old empathic brain is on high alert
Pleaser Stand-in Protector
I seek a distraction to divert the explosion.
From my place under the high chair
I make faces at Alice. It has worked before
As the high chair is bumped the milk sprouts wings
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE NOW?”
Your behemoth bulk looming over me
You snatch me up and carry me to my bedroom
Do you know how terrified and shamed I am
As you pull down my pants
My tiny seven-year-old bottom?
Off comes the belt
Which leaves angry welts on
Who just wanted to keep the peace.
Never left you in charge after that.
My fifty-five-year-old empathic brain had evolved
By the time of your visit.
The Protector came first on another bright Autumn day
After she died. “Honey, I’m alright,” she said.
You came many years later, having also evolved.
I lay on the couch before a roaring fire
Pretending to grade papers
While Beethoven’s Ninth wove its magic.
The chorus intoned Shiller’s “Ode to Joy”
And I became the music.
You came to me at the fireplace
As I stoked and the chorus proclaimed
Brothers, above the starry canopy
Must a loving Father reside.
“Honey, I do love you so much. Forgive me.”
Came the gentle whisper in my ear.
I wonder if Beethoven ever heard those words
From his abusive father.
Sixty -six years later
The fissure gleams
With the gold
Of healing experiences
Whole gift to fellow fractured
© Rita H Kowats 2017
Photo Credit: Wikipedia