Lily is my inner child.
She dances within animated faery pictures
laced with rainbows.
She beacons a light hearted soul
sometimes found in me.
Lily…
that’s what I’ve named her.
I think of her as someone separate
from me
my solace
my pretend
celtic design tattoos of creativity.
We often sit together
sipping tea
seeking magic
faries and mermaids color pages.
We keep leaves in our pockets
and baby roses at our table.
And yet…
my damsel is sometimes in distress
drawings of scorpions
those grim reaper drawings
haunt us both.
Sometimes
I think of her alone
worried
regretting… always
cold
lonely
fearful
growing older
not pretty anymore
abandoned by creativity
ignored
insignificant
inadequate
seeking out, but not finding validation
never measuring up
still struggling despite her efforts to achieve
sitting on the side of the road
with a cup.
Ahh yes my Lily of drama!
Lily is all the things I fear and more.
So that I might have compassion for the Lily ‘in me’,
I think of Lily…
her fears
and try to cheer her up!
What are friends for?
She does not need to feel so alone
I am here to help her.
I try to remind her,
that yes!
It IS possible to stand inside a rainbow
that leaves on trees
and baby roses
are tokens that she is worthy of my friendship.
And I sing songs to her
with lyrics that say
she is capable
and can overcome the things she frets about.
Oft times we care for others
more than our our own selves
and forget we exist at all.
I try to give Lily an out, a new road
instead of the same road,
that includes sadness
or whatever I feel causes me or Lily to falter.
Thus I refer to Lily a lot in things I write,
animated faery pictures I guess.
Sometimes Lily falls
and I do too
drawings of scorpions
outshine the possibility of angels.
But…
the more I decide to love me back
love Lily
the warmer we both are.
Name your inner child too, humm?
Offer that side of you a name
and then embrace it
step right ‘inside’ that rainbow.
by Kathy Ostman-Magnusen