Inspiration from special people

If you were to ask me what I get out of going to the Aphasia group I would tell you, inspiration.

All the people there are amazing. The stroke survivors, who have been through so much and continue to work at improving albeit a struggle. The carers who walk each step with the survivors, help them, teach them, laugh and cry with them. The volunteers, some of whom have Aphasia themselves, tirelessly work to make each session a joy, interesting, manageable. They are all wonderful and they make my afternoon as just being with them I feel the inspiration flood into me and encourage me to strive to improve. The lady from the Stroke Association who comes along and has words of encouragement for each and everyone is prepared to listen and advise. My own Stroke Association lady, I live in a different area from the one where the group is held, told me it was great there when she recommended it! She was right.

I take away the inspiration, encouragement, joy and companionship to use in my poems. Essentially they are about me and how I am coping with the stroke and its aftermath. Just as this blog does but in the poems I express myself differently and more deeply.

I enjoy writing and always have and it is a medium that I can use to express my emotions much more easily than in speech. They start with an idea and then they grow, they are like a picture with words and sometimes I wonder if only I can see that picture because they are so much a part of me.

I wanted to express my feelings about how I felt before, during and after the stroke and my vision of a future. So I wrote the first one, somewhat complicated words, but I felt very complex at the time. The others also come from deep within me but hopefully not as complex!

After the storm clouds

Afternoon sun disappears behind the gathering clouds

White, scattered turn a silver grey

Gradually attaining a charcoal hue

Before cultivating a deepening brume

Obliterating the golden orb

Shielding it from human eye

Rain nebula gather to douse the earth

Rain falls pattering softly

Increasing in density

Beating a tattoo on solid ground

Drenching, impregnating, saturating, submerging

Until, exhausted, the torrent abates

The golden orb peeks through the depleted clouds

Luminous streaks radiate the sky

Glimmering on the waterlogged terrain

Conduits glisten as luminosity shimmers in sparkling dartles

The storm clouds dissipate

Opening to the brilliant arc emblazoning the skies

Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet

In scintillating perceptibility

Virtually tangible in proximity

The curlicue is a covenant of ameliorated future.

Would I change who I am ?

One day I asked myself, 'Would I change how I am ? '

Would I have a perfect life, riches and fame, glory and decorations ?

No ! I accept my life,as it is, imperfect, unrestrained, problematic.

I see others with perfect lives, unhappy, unfulfilled, unloved.

Their lives bear no comparison to mine

I see love in my husband's eyes as he holds me

I see joy on the faces of my grandchildren as they see me

Caring in my children as they help me

I don't need wealth of money, I have wealth of love

I don't need fame, I am known by those who count me among them

I don't need glory, I have tasted glory in achievements

I don't need decorations, I have been decorated with being called -

Mother, grandmother, wife, daughter, sister, friend.

My imperfect life is full of medical imperfections

I am unrestrained by my conditions as I strive to live each day

It is problematic, as I turn a problem into a positive.

They are not happy as I am happy to be who I am

They are not fulfilled as I am fulfilled
 What my conditions have taught me

I am loved, by those whom I love.

Turn a negative into a positive

Turn a low into a high

Turn sadness to joy

Turn hate to love

Turn cries to laughter
Turn discord into peace 
Turn bitterness into pleasure

Turn misfortune into a blessing

Make your medical problems work FOR you not against

Turn them into advantages not disadvantages

If you saw other disabilities as well as your own

You would surely chose the devil you know.

Life behind the veil

I seem to live behind a veil, seeing but not seeing the world outside

It is close, if only I could reach out I could touch it

I shout out the words, but no one hears my impassioned plea

I shout a wordless cry of help, falling soundless on deafened ears

I see them moving, talking, laughing as though nothing else matters in the world

I cannot join their revalries, I am shut out from the crowd

I hear them and reply to them but yet await for them to know me

I am shut, trapped, resigned to live in a shadow

Neither here alone or with them outside

I have nothing for them, no voice, no thoughts

If they would only notice this veil and pull it away

If they would come and save me from this isolation

I could be somebody, prove my worth, see the world and laugh and talk once again

One roll of the dice

Life is a lottery you buy your ticket and see what comes up.

Some win a jackpot and squander the lot

Others bank it for a rainy day

Others receive a minor win

Yet most win the booby prize.

You make what you will of your lucky dip

Squandering a fortune sends them crashing down

Banking it does no good for anyone

A minor win can accumulate riches if put to good use

A booby prize can be turn into a pot of gold, by using it well.

Your life is in your hands

Use it well or you lose the prize.

One roll of the dice equals one chance to get it right.