I
wrote "New Bird" shortly after my daughter, Sunrise, was stillborn at
40 weeks…
All
the literature I read concerning grief used language such as "taken too
soon" and "passed on" to describe the experience of death. I had
a hard time reconciling these passive terms with my belief that my daughter had
chosen her moment to leave the world. Even though I never got a chance to watch
her grow, I felt I knew her: a girl who knew her own mind, a girl who took
control of her destiny, unafraid.
My grief has changed over the past three years:
sometimes sharp, sometimes blunt, always transforming into something I don't
expect. My relationship with Sunrise (I say relationship because, even though
she's not here, we are still bonded in that mother/daughter way) has changed
too. For so long after her death I thought of her as "somewhere
else," apart from me, unreachable, but now I know she is here with me,
always my daughter, my muse.
New
Bird
by Dejah
Beauchamp
i am a
new bird
all
free-flight
higher
than the earth
the sun
flares
(golden,
illuminate)
but can’t
catch me
i fly
and i
beat
my wings
against
the sky’s
embrace
and the
stars
all
winky-eyed
call to
me
and i
slip
through
their fingers
they are
so beautiful
their
voices are clear
but i can
hear the call
of one
who is higher
Dejah Beauchamp doesn't know the
answer to anything, but she's perfectly content to wander aimlessly through
life with the hope that she'll end up in the right place. She has written for Elephant
Journal, Be You Media Group, and The Tattooed Buddha, and has
had poetry published in Pilgrimage Magazine and Vine Leaves Literary
Journal. She lives in New England, raising two sons and writing about all
kinds of things on her blog, You can also connect
with Dejah on Facebook, or Twitter.
~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~
Comments
Post a Comment