she told me to accept what i was feeling
all that i felt, without judgment and this
i tried to do. until i realized there was
one item i was long conditioned to ignore,
to control and never ever let run free.
~~~~
i thought that anger was just a downward
spiral to hate and rage. i thought it inhibited
forgiveness and peace and ‘not ladylike’
was deeply ingrained as well.
~~~~
but my head has learned that anger has
its place, its own type of service, and bears
a scent that must be exhaled as part of a
story of injustice identified.
~~~~
and she is welcome here.
for others, and even for ourselves.
yes, this is acceptable too.
~~~~
so i breathed in deep and shut my eyes
and listened in the dark to what anger
had to say.
~~~~
and she began to communicate.
~~~~
louder and more convincingly than any voice
i had ever heard, ‘this was not right.
this should not have happened.’
~~~~
and found that I most heartily agreed.
~~~~
and the fire blazed and burned and for maybe
the first time, i embraced the heat and watched
what happened next.
~~~~
instead of consuming me she began to devour
things like misplaced guilt and should-have-dones
and sadness with her searing blue-white flame.
~~~~
and her sister, grief, nodded, stood and
clapped her hands at last.
~~~~
certain anger is not meant to be tamed
but to burn white hot until at least released.
so let it roar and turn to ash that which
sparked the heat within your chest.
~~~~
consuming pain and shame and horror
of what was and is, until there is peace
as embers flicker and finally grow cold
satiated.
~~~~
and you will look and say, ‘that pain, it
squeezed my soul for far too long and
sucked oxygen from gasping lungs,’ as
flames you tried to control in desperation
rage.
~~~~
but now that they are free to do the
purifying task that they were meant to
accomplish all along, you are finally free
as well.
~~~~
–lean in bold and do not fear this healing sort of flame. anger has its proper place and function.
image:Cana
Heather Pound 