The Shadows: Betrayal

I recently participated in a poetry workshop at our church. I'm not a poet. I have no desire to be a poet. I am not even a big fan of poetry, unless we are talking about songs. I think I got turned off to poetry when we covered it in English class, and my teachers would tell me my interpretation of a poem was wrong. How can it be wrong? I read it; that's what I got out of it. Different people can get different things out of poetry. So why did I go to the poetry workshop? Well, our pastor told me that I was going. She's been encouraging me in my writing, and she felt this would be a good place for me to develop skills or get practice. I didn't have a good argument for that.  

One thing that came up during the sessions is that I gravitate more towards prose poetry. Our sessions were led by Ray McManus - a very gifted poet and a professor at UofSC.  He has a new book that just came out, which I am excited to read. The Last Saturday in America. He pointed out multiple times that my poem was a prose poem.  He gave me suggestions on how to make it more of a poem; I didn't change anything because I'm stubborn. 

Writing the poems wasn't easy. They all were very personal, diving into some heavy stuff. We had seven total prompts - each one matching one of the Seven Shadows of the Cross. I wasn't familiar with that concept. It is similar to the Stations of the Cross, I think. The seven prompts were Betrayal, Desertion, Unshared Vigil, Accusation, Crucifixion, Death, and Burial. 

As part of my ongoing efforts to be less secretive and cowardly in my writing, I am posting these poems. I am reading this first one as part of our church's Good Friday service. It was difficult to write. It will be difficult to read. And it is definitely difficult to share. 

Betrayal

Why did you choose that precise moment?

While I was laying in a hospital bed

Waiting for test results

Wincing at the pain shooting through my body

Medical personnel bustled by

Machines whirred and beeped

Moans and whimpers filled the sterile air

My mother sat by my side, preparing to shatter my world

I flicked my eyes back and forth

Identifying as much as possible around me

Illness filled the foreign space

Internal turmoil filled my heart

For my ten years, I had placed my mother on a pedestal

My father was the constant threat, the perpetual danger

My mother was the person I could trust, could cling to

She personified holiness, represented all that was good.

When things got too hard, she would do her best to make them better

I could trust her … believe her

Even in this place, the emergency room, I knew I was safe

She was right by my side

“I have something I need to tell you.”

Now, I know that rarely does that line portend positive things

Then, I thought she was just trying to fill the time

“I have been married twice before…”

My brain locked up as it tried to process this

The tectonic plates on which I stood shifting

“Your brother isn’t really your brother…”

My heart pounds loudly in my ears

Drowning out the beeps and footsteps

“I just thought you should know.”

I am falling into a chasm

The foundation of my family, my world has been shattered

Why did they lie? 

Why did she take so long to tell me?

What else are they lying about? 

What other beliefs that I held were untrue?

Suddenly, my pain shifted to my heart

The fracture moved to my trust

The emergency slid into my mind

We came to this place to find healing

I am leaving forever broken.