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๐ŸŒป๐ŸŒžMy Sunrise๐ŸŒž๐ŸŒป

A poem I wrote in the early weeks in rehab when I didn’t think I possesed ‘depth of feelings’. I was to soon learn when they slammed into me like a Mack truck but this is beside the point today.

This morning I didn’t physically watch the sunrise but I feel it today in my spirit and I see it every time I look at my nieces Melanie and Hayley and into the faces of Melanie’s babies Alyse (Ally) and Isaac.
Think of a drink , think of these faces, they are too precious.

The feature picture was taken by myself one amazing sunrise in Burrill Lake, South Coast NSW.

My Sunrise
By Michelle England

This morning the sunrise belongs to me
Rising in grandeur delighting the sky with his tender hues
Gently, softly, slowly, teasing
And then he bursts in brilliance and glory
Painting the clouds complementing his beauty
The land opens up to accept the sweet gift
Soulful birds singing their descant song soaring
Flowers in worship unfolding faces to the sky

I open my heart and pray
I pray thanks for this morning and the sweet birds
Thanks for the crisp air the trees and the flowers
I pray thank you for life and all things in being
I pray thank you, just thank you, whithout a name

This morning the sunrise belongs to me
A dance in my heart the rhythm of memory
Startling in beauty carrying me away in the moment
Enchanted in joy
There was just him and me
๐ŸŒน

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The Cloak

I spent 7 1/2 months in a long term drug and alcohol rehabilitation centre in 2014. My start in the rehab was a breeze because when I entered I considered myself a human lacking feelings, and certainly I wasn’t feeling any. ‘I just have no depth of feelings’ I liked to share with my therapist and my peers in this therapeutic community. I was warned about ’emotional detox’ but didn’t think this applied to me. I didn’t cry much.

Suddenly at around the 8-9 week mark a flood of emotions assaulted me as my personal ’emotional detox’ began. I cried solidly for a couple of months and a heaviness consumed me. I wasn’t to break out of this until a few weeks before my departure on completion of the program, and for the 2 3/4 years since this darkness has not often been far away. Initially It began on waking. I opened my eyes each morning and the first feeling, before even a thought entered my waking consciousness, was dread. It felt like ‘Ugh’. I wrote ‘The Cloak’ toward the end of my stay in the rehab.

I feel I’m wearing the cloak today ๐Ÿ˜” however this too shall pass

The Cloak

By Michelle England

Perfect unconsciousness
Black, dark, still
I wake

Ahh…

Recycled air escapes from deep
The place just outside my soul
The cloak so soft descends upon me
False comfort easy to get lost in
Sweeps me up in folds of grey
Laying me down in the hazy shadows
A simple paradox
Tenacious surrender
Secure and warm in this fragile cold place
Enticing me to stay
So soft so gentle

Stay…
Stay

Ahh…
In…Out…

My sigh resides
The place just outside my soul
Resides there in the darkness

A murmur from deep
Close your eyes little one close your eyes
I will lull you in my folds
Lay your head down in my bed of shadows
I will hold you

Stay…

A robust spark rekindles
Burning brighter warming from within
Spreading tender strength and courage
Fractures the fog of my hostage mind
A smile so tiny toys upon my lips
A solitary peaceful tear marks a path upon my cheek

Ahh

My sign surrenders
The place just outside my soul
Bringing forth with might and valour
The rainbow of my spirit

The cloak turns drab and heavy
Folds of dark foreboding cold
Deception plain, name revealed
Time to bid it go

Time to breathe
Time to rise
Time to be

Time to shed
My melancholy cloak

photo credit: spaceamoeba Golden walk via photopin (license)