Thursday, March 18, 2010

O Barren Tree

O Barren Tree

O Barren Tree,
With nothing underneath
Your branches bare
No one to care

Yet upright you stand
And somehow demand
The eyes of a man
Who believes you can.

O Barren Tree,
His eyes can free.
As you stand these days,
Can you match his gaze?

Though with rotted stump,
His gaze may jump,
To boughs deserving
Of his relearning.

O Barren Tree,
Too dry to be.
Your limbs will burn,
That you may learn.

And perhaps one day,
His eyes ne'er away,
Will shed a tear,
And quell your fear.

O Barren Tree,
Can you now see?
Through ashes you rise,
By his watching eyes.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Polar Fours

On Fridays I have one client that I see: a four-year-old boy whose life is okay, but far from ideal. His dad was laid off about a year ago and took a job in a city 4 hours away in another state. This boy sees his dad maybe a few times a month, and his dad hasn't quite grasped how important his role is in his son's life, unfortunately. His home in chaotic and stability is something he knows little of, as his older sister went to live with their grandmother for her severe behaviors. He also struggles sleeping alone at night, which is the subject of why I am writing about him today. He often speaks of death, mostly because he has been surrounded by it: numerous pets that he was heavily attached to, as well as relatives he had close relationships with. Yesterday while in the car I inquired how he slept last night. He informed me that he had nightmares and didn't really sleep because "the dead skeletons were trying to pull me down". He continued to say something to the effect of the dead skeletons ripping either his or their own skin off. My heart was heavy listening to a child so young tell something so horrific. I wish that life didn't have to be that way from him. I thought at that moment, if I could somehow take what he has to deal with and put it on myself, I would do it in a heartbeat. There is just no way that someone so young should have to be scared of such things.

The other four-year-old that I see had received good news. He and his two siblings went to a court date to see if their father in California would receive custody of them (they had been with their mother when SRS took custody from her for neglect). I saw him as his case manager for the (hopefully) last time on Thursday. I took him out to get ice cream and then dropped him off at school. We talked about how warm it would be in California and how good it was that he would be flying in a plane for the first time and going to live with his father. I got out of the car and as I opened his door he looked at me and said, "I will miss you." Simple words from a child can reach deep. I told him that I will miss him too and told him that I enjoyed all the fun we had together. I walked with him to his school door and he walked in without looking back.

Just another week in case management. Good news, disturbing news, it all runs together and life goes on. I hope and pray that the next four years for both these boys are nowhere near as difficult as their first four years have been.

Monday, March 1, 2010

"A Childish Prank"

This past weekend I was browsing with some friends at a local Barnes & Noble. One a shelf with staff recommendations there was a book of poems entitled "Crow" by Ted Hughes. I picked it up and was astounded at the depth and imagery Hughes used in his writing. This short collection, though made up of a few dozen poems, reads as a collective effort, evolving the character of crow as something opposite of God, but all the while a creature you want to read about and understand how he became the way he is. Hughes expressions of mankind's relation to God, good and evil, and human nature are interesting. Consider this, my favorite poem in the book so far.

"A Childish Prank"

Man's and woman's bodies lay without souls,
Dully gaping, foolishly staring, inert
On the flower of Eden.
God pondered.

The problem was so great, it dragged him asleep.

Crow laughed.
He bit the Worm, God's only son,
Into two writhing halves.

He stuffed into man the tail half
With the wounded end hanging out.

He stuffed the head half headfirst into woman
And it crept in deeper and up
To peer out through her eyes
Calling it's tail-half to join up quickly, quickly
Because O it was painful.

Man awoke being dragged across the grass.
Woman awoke to see him coming.
Neither knew what had happened.

God went on sleeping.

Crow went on laughing.

Hmm. Interesting, is it not? And as clarification, as I post certain things that may seem "contrary" to Christian values, it is only because I feel it pertinent to not only be aware of other's perspectives, but to know them inside and out to understand why a person attaches to that belief. Only when one understand's another's perspective can they help them. What good does it serve to cater only to your own perspective, besides fostering a sense of...well...you get the picture. Understand others, help others. Understand yourself, help yourself.

Now that that's out of the way, I welcome any interpretations or reactions to the above piece.