Monday, 5 June 2017

Requiem For A Lost Child (March 5, 2010) (Updated and revised)

Forty years ago 
A child was born
Into this world.

Perfect
In all ways
With ten fingers
And toes.

No visible signs
Of a birth defect
Except one.

Only known
To the child.

Not a defect
As society understands
But a greater truth.

That burns
With the intensity
Of a white-hot flame.

Removing all doubt
In the child's mind.

She takes small steps
Within the safety
And privacy
Of the bathroom.

Dipping a cautious toe
Into the waters of femininity
Testing the temperature
Before plunging head-first
Into the pool of life.

Filling herself
With the confidence
Only a young child has.

In expressing
Her desire
To be Wonder Woman.

Looking back 
A brave
But
Very risky move
In a small rural Ontario village.

You know
The type of place
Everyone knows
Your name and life history
And cows outnumber people.

Gossip and bad news
Compete against each other
Like two drivers
Spoiling for a race.

Testing their speed
Spreading the news
On the local phone company's
'Party-line'.

Hostile and angry glares
Greet the child
Instead of
Open arms
And warm smiles.

If looks could....

Dimming the flame
From white-hot
To a dull yellow hue.

As the child sought shelter
By burying
This part of themselves
In a hidden corner
Of their soul. 

Still
The flame burns.

Standing
Like a beacon
Lighting the trail
Throughout
The hostile wilderness
Society has become.

Enduring chronic bouts
Of depression
And anxiety.

Shed
Not a tear
For that child is
I.

Now an adult
Walking the path now
So long
Brighten
By the dim flame.

Once more burning
White-hot
Having found herself.

Therisa © 2010



12 comments:

  1. I was wondering if she was Wonder Woman, born out of wedlock. Glad it turned around.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Colleen. Wonder Woman was created, about 75 years ago, as a symbol of empowerment for American girls and to many trans-females, as well. Am hoping to see the new movie, if I can do so, without having anxiety attacks, from the crowds.

      Delete
  2. This is my favourite stanza

    "You know
    The type of place
    Where everyone knows
    Your name and life
    And cows outnumber people."

    A very soul stirring write, Have a blessed day Terisa



    much love...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Gillena, this part of southern Ontario, that I wrote about, is a very rural area, where old order Mennonites can found, riding around, in their horse and buggy. Also, the place, where I hid away, from myself, for 28 years, before accepting my true self.

      Delete
  3. I know those small villages and party lines... and narrow-mindedness I have encountered everywhere.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Kerry, for stopping by. Am sorry, you have to experience this pettiness, as well. Truthfully, I thought, I would have tot explain, what a party line is, given most people may have not experience them, in their lives.

      Delete
  4. "You know
    The type of place
    Where everyone knows
    Your name and life
    And cows outnumber people."

    This is beautifully poignant.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I so wonder how it would have been... I have memories of testing my sister's clothes... but in the end I went for staying in the suit to which I was born.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Bjorn, it's natural, for young boys to try out their mom's or sisters' clothing, it's part of your part of finding your true self. If you had a son, who identifies, as female, they would find very supportive parent, in you and your wife. This is the vibe, I get from your responses to my poetry. Thanks.

      Delete
  6. The title threw me off some -- the date made me think this was a true requiem, as if the speaker was grieving a person who had died on that date. Anyway, its a good life story and affirms what grows and continues. The good child is true again.

    ReplyDelete
  7. This is outstanding!!! The part about exploring in the bathroom ... the line breaks (filled, which/witch, burying ... such smart poetry). I am really impressed.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I think the title is perfect. There absolutely is a real death --- the death of the lost child, who is now found. Even in adulthood, we can still be lost children. In fact, we are probably all still lost children until we are 30 or 40, or even older.

    ReplyDelete

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