Colleen, a member of the LivingWithAtaxia patient to patient support network I help run, posted a beautiful poem that I wanted to share with you. For more information on Ataxia, checkout Wikipedia. It will help you appreciate the poem even more.
When the moons return
When the moons return in summer I know I will be free,
When the moons return in summer I know I will be me.
For when they left they took a part of me that has no name.
A feeling,a need,a growing a presence, something I can't explain.
Like the sun upon your skin, the wind blowing in your hair
I know by it's very absence that part of me's not there.
The tears they fall so often sometimes soft upon my cheek.
Sometimes harsh and sometimes silent sometimes even in my sleep.
I cannot make my body obey my mind's commands
I cannot feel the water as it runs across my hands
but I feel oh much to strongly this saddness in my heart ,
and all the anger in the world when my body fails to start
Though most things I take within my stride fustration tends to grow ,
when I cannot do the simple tasks my brain should really know.
Unsteady in my walking I plan each step with care ,
but the crulest blow in all of this is when I hold you your'e not there.
I watch my arms around you I feel as they connect,
I see the smile upon your face the sound that your'e content.
My darling I can't feel you there is nobody there,
for in my mind despite what I see I am holding fizzing air.
I pray it will get better that the fog will go away.
That I will just remember how to run and jump someday.
When the moods return in summer I know I will be free
for when the moons are back not blue but white I know they will bring me.
When I asked for Colleen's permission to post this, she filled me in on a little deeper meaning.
"The poem has a deeper meaning. I was disg., with b12 deff ( with neuro complications) in which the moons on your finger nails disapear, the hope was that with treatment they would return and I would recoverI They did not still you never know what tommorow may bring."
When the moons return in summer I know I will be free,
When the moons return in summer I know I will be me.
For when they left they took a part of me that has no name.
A feeling,a need,a growing a presence, something I can't explain.
Like the sun upon your skin, the wind blowing in your hair
I know by it's very absence that part of me's not there.
The tears they fall so often sometimes soft upon my cheek.
Sometimes harsh and sometimes silent sometimes even in my sleep.
I cannot make my body obey my mind's commands
I cannot feel the water as it runs across my hands
but I feel oh much to strongly this saddness in my heart ,
and all the anger in the world when my body fails to start
Though most things I take within my stride fustration tends to grow ,
when I cannot do the simple tasks my brain should really know.
Unsteady in my walking I plan each step with care ,
but the crulest blow in all of this is when I hold you your'e not there.
I watch my arms around you I feel as they connect,
I see the smile upon your face the sound that your'e content.
My darling I can't feel you there is nobody there,
for in my mind despite what I see I am holding fizzing air.
I pray it will get better that the fog will go away.
That I will just remember how to run and jump someday.
When the moods return in summer I know I will be free
for when the moons are back not blue but white I know they will bring me.
When I asked for Colleen's permission to post this, she filled me in on a little deeper meaning.
"The poem has a deeper meaning. I was disg., with b12 deff ( with neuro complications) in which the moons on your finger nails disapear, the hope was that with treatment they would return and I would recoverI They did not still you never know what tommorow may bring."
