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Mental health ... or ill-health. We have treasure in jars of clay.
This poem spilled onto the page one afternoon after long days of caring for those I love who bravely endure the pain of mental ill-health. Perhaps these words express something familiar to you too.
Be gone!
Be gone, you thief!
If only that were all you are …
At least then, you’d take and go.
Instead, you linger, lurking.
Loitering with intent.
You take and swallow, pleasure hollow.
Grasping, hiding, endless riding
of shadows and pain,
any gain – is stolen away on another day.
Be gone, you thief!
Away, you brute!
You’ve no fear of me, just I of you.
Untouchable, invisible … undeniable.
Me? I am flesh and bone, bent and prone.
You – a mist that punches with solid fist,
leaving no bruise for them to see,
a gaping hole, it seems to me.
Away, you brute!
Be gone, you liar!
You who set worlds on fire.
No tongue to wag yet deceit abounds.
Can’t see the truth, the false has grounds
that seem so solid, real, abiding,
could it be that truth is hiding?
How would we know, or get clear,
when darkest mists swirl ever near?
Your lies pervade my very life
filling with endless strife,
by falsehoods rife,
the ones I love.
Be gone, you liar!
Against you, I cannot fight,
The history (dark as night)
cannot be unwritten.
Though n’er were you bidden,
to ‘Come in!’ …
You have.
Moving in? Here to stay?
Not just for a holiday?
"Give thanks in all circumstances":
easy when there’s songs and dances!
But what of now? Today? Tomorrow?
Will there be an end to sorrow?
He says, ‘Yes!’ and enters in,
dressing himself with weakest skin.
A man of sorrows, despised, rejected,
trod the path of those dejected.
All the shame, the pain, the loss,
borne in full upon the cross.
Without a fight,
smashed light
– of life.
Be gone, you thief! Away, you brute!
O Spirit help us see the truth!
Today, tomorrow, maybe years,
blurred through seeming endless tears...
Daily shout: ‘The lies aren’t true!
There’s hope of life, refreshed and new!’
Though I can’t fight,
there is a light -
that breaks the night.
I know it’s bright!
My eyes are dim, I peer as through a glass, darkly.
One day … we’ll be so near,
no more to fear,
and we will be like him,
for we will see
with clarity.
But now …
be gone, you thief!
