Let Me Do This For You


You keep still and hidden,
Concealing from others the harrowing things you have seen and think you therefore are.
But I am not afraid of your tears
Or the broken fragments of your soul,
I will not baulk at how your gentleness is creased with sorrow.
I will stroke your fingers as you cry,
Rub circles on your back until the moving sea of your anguish breathes its ebb tide
And you breach the waves of your wilderness.
Give me one hand,
One hand, and I will take you to him,
That wonderful man who changed it all
But never knew he had done so.

With eyes open to it all- every single bit of it –
I will pour my fight into you,
And together we will set out for that seemingly hopeless horizon,
My shoulder nudging yours aloft,
Easing the weight of your branching uncertainty.
And when the night closes in
I will lift you up so that you are bathed
In the light of a foetal-crouched moon,
And I will hold you there,
In that naked vulnerability
Until you trust that I will never leave you,
That no shadow or pain needs to be hidden in order for me to stay.

There, outside of time, I will cradle you
Until the tiny, golden sob off mercy
Pulsates into being,
And in that tormented release you
Trust that I will guide you through the contours
Of who you still are
And will always be to me.
Let me stroke away that stubble of thorns
And in the shallow pool of our tears
Shave away the beard of your pain.
Overhead the stars are beginning and ending constantly
And in their glow I will guide you to the water
To show you the man
Whom I will love to the end
And stand by forever.
Come to me,
Let me take you home.

© Carly Dugmore