| Dinna fash! It’s an old Scots word meaning to wander with no particular intent, To roam, stroll idly, some would even say around twilight, When the sun is soft, translucent, When the air is still and perfumed, a trifle pinkish or reddish, The sun rays allowing themselves some rest before … temporarily dying. So … I have been stravaigin for almost forty years now. It’s a wonder I’ve made it so far! I know people in my family who haven’t, despite the quite favourable circumstances of their lives. Today it’s actually the last day of my fortieth year of life; [I am not forty YET, you do the math!] A milestone, A waypoint, A turning point perhaps! A moment for myself to take stock. So… [my apologies for the amount of coordinating conjunctions in my poems, not very professional!] Who am I? What have I done so far? I am… I am a bookkeeper’s and an engineer’s daughter, I am, against all odds, very bad at Math and exact sciences, I am quite proficient in a couple of languages, I am a teacher, I am an educator, I am [quietly trying to become] a poet, I am a mother, a loving, affectionate, tender, devoted mother, And I am a child, I used to be an invisible one, but God granted me light, and I have discovered [after thirty-nine years] how to use it, Not to fill my own invisibility, but to shed it on others. My light is colourless, neither transparent, nor opaque, It’s just … there for the ones who choose to see it. I am my family’s history, Their sins, Their struggles, Some have drowned themselves in a river, Some others survived. I am my mother’s pain, Her ceaselessly worrying about the whole world, The poverty, the hunger, the natural disasters, the cancer, the loss, the grief. I am my mother’s blessing, The only one she has been granted In this storm of a life she has so far lived. I am love. Love for books, Love for children, Love for people, Love for my family, Love for music, Love for Adi, And his family, Love for my sister [she’s a cousin but a sister to me] Love for my friends, My dear Monique and Marlene, Love for LIFE! [Against all odds] Or maybe … I am! Nothing more or less. I exist, Hopelessly inconsistent, Vulnerable and strong, Cheerful and melancholic, Traumatised and healed [or healing], Fortunate to be here, and still always missing home. A war, even one against yourself, Has no benefits. It took me thirty-nine years and three hundred and sixty-four days to learn this. It’s not enough to meet the right person, you have to meet them at the right time as well, That’s another lesson I’ve learned, But this poem is quite lengthy [all of them are], And I should stop here. So … I have been stravaigin for almost forty years now, And life’s been good to me, And light has accompanied me everywhere, And I am! And that should be enough. [July 2023] |
cristinawinters 