When I was born I was quite alone,
My mother needed help – she too was alone.
There wasn’t a soul who would pull me out
Nor who could shorten the pain she had undergone.
When I was a small child and was made to stand
In the corner for not being a saint,
I was alone and had no one to share
My very sad state.
As a teenager I was still alone.
I made decisions each day of the week
And if they were wrong then it was my fault.
I had to be strong. It was a sin to be weak.
Life can be happy it depends on you, they say.
If you enjoy your life, do not show that you’re glad.
People will soon do their best to bring pain,
And unless you are strong they will soon make you sad.
Standing ready on the beach
With my husband and friends,
Watching the ambers so hot
I realized then that life was indeed in my hands.
I imagined my entry into this world,
Now once again I was on my own;
Facing the hot coals I could see
I was responsible for me.
I walked across, my head held high
Chanting solemnly, not feeling a thing
Except, the excitement of a job well done
Each time I think of the coals I smile.
If I can walk on hot coals on my own,
I can do anything alone. Yes I can!
I can even die on my own.
© Denise Nowakowski, December 2002