by

Poetry: Inside the House

through multi-colored glass
down simple carpet floors
white walls turn brass
tears transform into doors

shadow trees grow there
lightening flowers do too
whispers come for repair
howling monsters to spew

creaking boards hold ache
light bulbs illuminate pain
rafters rattle and shake
trauma flows like rain

lose yourself, my child
within safe caring walls
connect with inner wild
listen to phoenix’s calls

for inside healing house
nothing stays for long
come in quiet mouse
leave brave lion strong

*This poem was inspired by a comment left on my blog by Grounded African and is dedicated to everyone attempting to enter a building like this to heal and connect in therapy, especially my darling daughter. May you find your way through the dark.

111 thoughts on “Poetry: Inside the House”

  6. Ah, don’t we know the feeling. My heart is with you as my footsteps have accompanied the pain. Only could of been written with the vivid emotional experience. I have done it and you have described it well. Let us pray that the outcome is how you have said it. I am with you.

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  7. This is such a beautiful, lovingly worded poem, Bridgette. I can truly identify with your words, having been in a very similar place myself. I was trying to choose a favourite verse, but they all spoke to me on such a deep level. Your daughter is so very blessed in having you as her mom. I feel you are her rock in stormy seas. As always, I think about you and your daughter often. I send you much love, healing for your daughter, and comforting hugs and wishes to you both. Xx 💖💕💝

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    • Thank you, Ellie. You were also on my mind as I wrote this, imagining a new place for you to walk into and heal. I really hope it happens soon for you, as I’d love to see you realize how much of a lion you are. Thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me and my daughter. We appreciate your hugs and well wishes ❤️

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    • I used the same door photo but in black and white earlier this week. A blogger commented it looked like a door to another world, with the reflection of the tree. As it’s the door to my daughter’s therapy office, it got me thinking about the magic which happens in those walls and this poem was the result.

      I might write a short story, at some point, about a house that grows and shifts depending on the mood of the people who live within. Could be interesting, sort of like the Haunting of Hill House, only not as scary.

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    • Thank you so much for asking, Iris. She is doing so much better! We’ve got a pretty great treatment plan and switched to homeschooling. It’s not a linear thing, mental health, but we celebrate the wins!

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  33. Hi Dearest Bridgette,

    ‘I encountered a technical glitch with WP. Some of your beautiful comments went to spam which I approved to get back to the normal post. But now your likes and comments have altogether disappeared. ‘I don’t know what to do. But thank you sooooooo much for your loving words of encouragement and appreciation. You are a real gem and an inspiration to me. ❤❤❤😊😊😊😊

    Liked by 3 people

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