Trauma Healing - Body Wisdom
Becky Carter, LCPC
Poetry
~Ascent~
​
I climb this
mountain
barefoot to
its’ summit –
oblivious to
shifting winds
and the primal
wounds on
my heels in
the ascent –
my jaw is
tired and my
words have
become –
unharnessed.
~woke~
I will not sleep while your
wings are being clipped
or during the placation
of your righteous rage
I will dig my hands bloody
to extract your impacted words
I will stare into the
opening of the bullet hole
I will listen for the rattle
that precedes your last breath
I will not rest while you
hang from the oak
and your tears salt the earth.
~resilience~
when the sun reaches
her darkest places – she
blossoms – dances the
field – flirts with daffodils-
and drums the earth
with tender feet.
~ collected ~
It seems we must learn
to anchor amidst this
storm – gather the weight
of spirit – link our veins
beneath the earth,
the house is silent –
we bend to the arc of
voice – trace our steps
while the floor notates
our movement,
we talk to trees – smile
at the sun – cry with
the rain – indulge the
veil of morning fog,
we will visit our
ancestors in dreams –
grieve the loss of our
village – call on the wind
to carry our voices,
we are skin – the
fibers of a collective
muscle – the densest
of bone – and we will –
grow stronger.
~Protest~
black baby ~
pierce them proudly
with your first cry
draw deep your
primal breath
black boy ~
proclaim yourself
with wide eyes
curious hands
descending larynx
black man ~
walk bravely
these angry streets
lay down your truth
under fearful feet.
​
~Lioness~
I sleep with lions
in the grasslands,
a naked spirit
in gentle slumber,
the last hunt
left deep scars,
and I wake,
startled by the
image of the
stabbing buffalo horn,
yet I rise… and
drink from the
waterhole with my
pride, my amber
eyes reflected,
my fierce roar
stirring calm waters,
I am wild and loyal,
bathing in pride’s
tongue and settling
into rhythmic hums.