The intensity of the torture I suffered as a child created an equally desperate neediness. The following poem from My Tears Fall Inside, pages 152-155 shares a taste of that contrast as well as the type of people that were courageous enough to become involved.
MOTHER EARTH AND ME
It is a grey cloudy heavy day.
I hike the desert hills
to reach the lone wild olive tree overlooking the valley.
It sits on the east side of a hill near the crest.
As I walk I pick pieces of strong pungent sage.
I also cling to one white desert primrose.
The primroses are looking limp and weaker now.
They crave the moisture of a new rainfall.
I reach my Gethsemane companion
and sit beneath its grey green branches
beside a dead sagebrush.
Carefully I place the small white rose
in the fork of a dead branch.
Beneath the grey brown deadness on the ground,
I place the handful of green sage.
I find there last year’s bundles of dead grass.
As I sit here alone with mother earth,
my whole body curls tightly in a ball,
like the clenched fist
that clings to the agony of the sage.
I feel the pain of the earth consciousness
and the wind mourns out her sorrowful cries.
Surely she can comprehend my pain
And my agony is hers.
OH if only the world of people
could feel the pain of this one lone child,
it would weep and weep and weep endlessly
with her!
The agony is so massive,
surely only mother earth
who witnessed all this horror
can weep and wrench out sobs with me!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I can’t stand the pain anymore!
I hate being me!
Please let me die!
Take me away!
I’m so tired of pain!
I can’t bear any more!
OH God help me!
I sob and sob and sob.
The pain drills through the very core of me.
It goes all the way to the center of the earth’s core
and combines with the agony
she has witnessed through the centuries.
My mind is tormented and confused.
The emotional trauma inside
screams to be released!
My entire body hurts
with the huge pain trapped inside.
My chest hurts,
my stomach, head, arms and legs ache.
I am in pain.
The pain is trapped between millions of cells
and is stored as huge energy forces
but it causes intense pain.
As I sob and sob and sob,
even my fingers are tingling in pain.
The massive negative energy
tries hard to escape my body
before the pain causes illness again.
Perhaps with each tear that falls,
there really is a permanent release,
however miniscule when compared to the whole mass.
As I let the tears come
and the wracking sobs escape my heart and soul,
will the gaping hole filled with the agony within me
find room to accept even a particle of love?
Oh let it be so!
I feel like the grey brown dead sagebrush.
I look to you to place within my dead branches
the small white desert primrose.
The agony of the sage sits on the ground
beside my bundles of dead grass filled with pain.
I sit in the shade of the wild olive tree,
my Gethsemane companion,
and with Mother Earth I mourn out my sorrowful cries.
OH hear my cries and find me!
Teach me that you are safe
so the warmth of your love won’t frighten me so much.
If we wish to find the warmth of the Son,
we must run to the olive tree,
And we will find Him there
beneath its branches bearing the burdens
of those willing to hurt with Him.
He teaches us that people are not “in the way.”
He teaches us that people ARE the way!
Please help me release the pain and agony inside
in the warmth and safety of your love!
Please help me bear my burdens!
I can’t carry them alone!
Oh God please comfort my friend earth and me,
in the warmth of the love of those courageous enough to become involved!
It is a grey cloudy heavy day.
I hike the desert hills
to reach the lone wild olive tree overlooking the valley.
It sits on the east side of a hill near the crest.
As I walk I pick pieces of strong pungent sage.
I also cling to one white desert primrose.
The primroses are looking limp and weaker now.
They crave the moisture of a new rainfall.
I reach my Gethsemane companion
and sit beneath its grey green branches
beside a dead sagebrush.
Carefully I place the small white rose
in the fork of a dead branch.
Beneath the grey brown deadness on the ground,
I place the handful of green sage.
I find there last year’s bundles of dead grass.
As I sit here alone with mother earth,
my whole body curls tightly in a ball,
like the clenched fist
that clings to the agony of the sage.
I feel the pain of the earth consciousness
and the wind mourns out her sorrowful cries.
Surely she can comprehend my pain
And my agony is hers.
OH if only the world of people
could feel the pain of this one lone child,
it would weep and weep and weep endlessly
with her!
The agony is so massive,
surely only mother earth
who witnessed all this horror
can weep and wrench out sobs with me!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I hurt!
I can’t stand the pain anymore!
I hate being me!
Please let me die!
Take me away!
I’m so tired of pain!
I can’t bear any more!
OH God help me!
I sob and sob and sob.
The pain drills through the very core of me.
It goes all the way to the center of the earth’s core
and combines with the agony
she has witnessed through the centuries.
My mind is tormented and confused.
The emotional trauma inside
screams to be released!
My entire body hurts
with the huge pain trapped inside.
My chest hurts,
my stomach, head, arms and legs ache.
I am in pain.
The pain is trapped between millions of cells
and is stored as huge energy forces
but it causes intense pain.
As I sob and sob and sob,
even my fingers are tingling in pain.
The massive negative energy
tries hard to escape my body
before the pain causes illness again.
Perhaps with each tear that falls,
there really is a permanent release,
however miniscule when compared to the whole mass.
As I let the tears come
and the wracking sobs escape my heart and soul,
will the gaping hole filled with the agony within me
find room to accept even a particle of love?
Oh let it be so!
I feel like the grey brown dead sagebrush.
I look to you to place within my dead branches
the small white desert primrose.
The agony of the sage sits on the ground
beside my bundles of dead grass filled with pain.
I sit in the shade of the wild olive tree,
my Gethsemane companion,
and with Mother Earth I mourn out my sorrowful cries.
OH hear my cries and find me!
Teach me that you are safe
so the warmth of your love won’t frighten me so much.
If we wish to find the warmth of the Son,
we must run to the olive tree,
And we will find Him there
beneath its branches bearing the burdens
of those willing to hurt with Him.
He teaches us that people are not “in the way.”
He teaches us that people ARE the way!
Please help me release the pain and agony inside
in the warmth and safety of your love!
Please help me bear my burdens!
I can’t carry them alone!
Oh God please comfort my friend earth and me,
in the warmth of the love of those courageous enough to become involved!
Romans 8:17 - “And if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with Him, that we may be also glorified together.”
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