The Real Within

The Real Within

Protection that is only without

Cannot protect the within,

For what is without can be taken away,

But what is within remains.

In death we cannot take the without.

Only our realness within will go.

ã19 December 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

To Be Fully Aware

To Be Fully Aware

Pensively searching, questioning within,

Analyzing, sifting, scanning without stop

The whole of my life—and not just what appears

On the surface…

The eyes of my heart,

The heart of my soul,

My very essence,

My spirit…

Watches,

Searches,

Seeks,

And knows

Far more than I dare accept now,

But if I opened myself to all my perceptions

And lived by my real convictions,

Would I be happier, wholer?

Or would I be more threatening, threatened?

ã19 December 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

The Reclaiming of Me

The Reclaiming of Me

Why does it matter what you think of me?

Why should I be bothered by what you say or see?

Why does it upset me if you think I’m bad?

And why does it scare me if I think you’re mad?

Why do I not see myself as a person of great worth?

Why do I not see myself as valuable to Mother Earth?

Why must I torture myself, tear myself apart?

Why must I never heal the great sorrow of my heart?

Why can’t I see myself as a beautiful, strong woman?

Why can’t I just be me, under the thumb of no one?

Why do I hesitate to take up this warrioress’ fight?
 

Why do I not trust myself to my vision and my sight?

Now I see it more clearly—the gynecidal plot

That tried to keep me trapped within something that I am not.

Arise, my soul, be strong against your foe,

For everything you really need inside your heart you know.

ã4 December 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

A New Awakening to an Old Knowing

A New Awakening to an Old Knowing

God, I thought I knew you.

I thought I really did,

But when I really needed you,

Your face from me you hid.

As I searched for you and struggled

In the death roll of great pain,

What I thought I knew and had known before

Went racing through my brain.

Shattered, broken, shaken…

Something held me from long before,

Planted deep within my spirit—

Some supposed forgotten lore.

A deep voice sang in my ears again—

My heartbeat—the drum beat same,

“Look up, my child, and see the stars,

And know from whence you came.”

ã3 December 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Un-Mazing of Being

Un-Mazing of Being

That forbidden pleasure-terror curiosity

Hunting the Truth—

If ever mystical creature quested

Perchance be discovered, known—

The best of fantasies—

The worst of tragedies—

Thrilled to pursue

Ecstasy of mystery—

Be it ever unknown—

ã22 February 1995, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Recovery

Recovery

Pain, how I hate you,

You excruciating fiend,

Who causes me to cry out with the agony

Of a tortured mind and heart

That tears and ruins my body

And destroys my very soul.

You’ve made my life as miserable

As you possibly could…

But, you failed.

I live. I cry.

I breathe. I sigh.

I think. I try.

I love. Oh, my!

Pain, you gave all you could,

And you still try to wear me down,

But you might as well give up

Because I will banish you one day to hell…

You cannot ruin my spirit—

I will overcome!

I am a survivor, and I will fight you…

And the battle’s just begun!

ã17 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

OK, But Don’t Tell Me I’m Going to Like It!

OK, But Don’t Tell Me I’m Going to Like It!

What do you do when you’re all alone

And it strikes?

You cannot scream loud enough,

Or get numb enough,

Or run fast enough,

Or sleep deep enough

To escape again.

And you know escape is not even the answer.

But how do you welcome torment,

Embrace agony,

Beckon to torture,

Entreat misery,

Cohabit with trauma,

Flirt with devastation?

And damn it all! That’s the only way out.

ã31 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Instinctively Led

Instinctively Led

With hope as the anchor for my soul

As I feel so tossed and torn,

With steady course before me set,

I walk though weak and worn.

Others tread similar paths

Even though I feel alone.

I know my anchor will continue to hold

Even though I feel cut to the bone.

Confused and clear, numb and pained,

Trauma upon trauma relived,

Agonized hauntings my memories come

To make my whole life sieved.

Yet deep in my heart I hear the voice

Of God speaking to my spirit,

Telling me exactly which way I should go,

And, thankfully, my spirit can hear it.

ã22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.