On the moonlit path to the lake,
in the shadows, me now, older, heavy,
dragging chronic pain like chains
meets my old, young self with hand on heart
wearing diaphanous, silken, embroidered garb
Me now, Me then,
I ask why? Why me? Why M.E.?
I see how once upon a time
I danced with energy
the temple dance of reverence
And now what has and is to become of me?
Although in mind and soul still young
now my old, naked self
rests prone in my palm
I'm not dead yet, only resting
dreaming of health,
trying to remain calm
learning to master the art of pacing
in the fluctuating face of M.E.
a neurologically, physically challenging disease
a complex, lack lustre, burdensome beast
As for the lack of understanding in addition,
I have become invisible as if I do not exist
Result: emotional frustration and social isolation
Why M.E.? Shiva Natraja
What lesson have I to learn from this?
How can I recreate
and within this pain reincarnate?
How may I dream of dancing again?
Resolutely rooted like the trees
in the moonlight, leaves shimmering
I wait in the darkness for an answer
how do I master acceptance
without denial or resistance
May I move forward again?
As physical pain like chains
around my body entwines
creeping like poison ivy
the ensuing depression
winds and consumes my mind
I compare myself to how I once was
outgoing, energetic and lively
potentials of youth have long died
and everyday opportunities die
before my very eyes
in the trials and tribulations of M.E.
but my inner strength still foolishly bold
at times comes at a cost
though I ought to pace
I try to take a slice of life
which often backfires and I pay the price
in resulting pain and/or lack of energy
the delayed payback of only human desire!
As Shiva Natraja the Lord of Dance
within the Full Moon dances
the wheel of life turns
choreographing in creation and destruction
a reconstruction into transformation
You see I hope in whatever way I can
For I must find life within my confines
cause I am only here now, this once, this time
and until there is a hint of life
I must live
to the best of my abilities
Grieving the loss of the former me, myself, I,
I still strive to live
learning to have less expectations
turning & transforming & tuning
pain into acceptance,
pain into patience,
pain into compassion, poetry and art
pain into prayer
pain into love
from the realms of my soul
to the depths of my heart
© Apolonia J Lobo