Five Poems by Sarah

I think that this sequence of five poems by my friend Sarah de Nordwall expresses perfectly the essence of the journey into and out of spiritual abuse.

These poems are all under Sarah’s copyright, but are posted here with her kind permission.

Sarah writes from her personal experience, and helps others to do so. For more about her, go to sarahdenordwall.com

Certain Susan

Certain Susan
Swiftly roused
Had a cause
Which she espoused
And she knew
That she was right
And God help those
Who chose to fight.

Those desperately seeking certainty
Sought certain Susan out.

And came to her with pens in hand
To write her sayings out.

Her case was sealed
Hermetically
And thus she spoke
Prophetically.

She gave no leeway
Made no pacts
Others had opinions
She had facts.

But when she heard the crowd applaud
She bowed demurely
“Thank the Lord”

Her path of glory
Yet untrod
She visualised
And gave to God

Natalie Nice

Natalie Nice did not like vice
She ironed all her creases twice.

Her smile was wide
Her eyes were bright
She knew that she was wholly right.

Her voice was sweet
Her knife was sharp
She thought she’d like
To play the harp.

She always had a lot to say
And taught the world to work and pray
And when she knew you fairly well
She’d warn you off from going to hell
And teach you all the things she knew,
That fear was bad
And so were you.

And thus she did the things she could
And all the things that good girls should.
But Love itself she never found
The well of love
Dark and profound
From which the living waters flow
Was somewhere that she would not go.

With all her inclinations tamed
Her passions were as yet un-named

And though she giggled,
Seldom laughed
She thought that comedy was daft.

So seriously she smiled
And sighed

And in her secret room
She cried.

 

Requirement

I require something of you
Which I cannot acknowledge
So I ask it of you
In terms of making you an offer
You can’t refuse

You take the bait
And I wait
For the goods to arrive

But they don’t

Because the offer left my hand
Like a satellite
On an elliptical orbit
Curving sharply back
To the centre of gravity
Me

And what comes back
Is not free
Not a gift from you to me
But the unspoken sense of
Your unseen resentment
And the outworking of my own
Dishonesty

How is it
That even the most unnatural dealings
All seem to follow
The same natural Law?

 

Blood-Real

Those who reflect on idealisations
Inspite of themselves
Commit
Brutalisations

But Jonah
Consumed in the guts of the whale
Found guts of his own
When spewed out
Small and pale

And staggered
But firm
On the ground he could feel
Found God
Though in heaven
On earth
Is blood real.

 

I will go out now

My heart is heavy with the weight of complicity
And I will weave no more
Where the weft is warped so darkly

And the straw we would have spun to gold
Is straw still at the last
And breaks in my hand
And cuts my fingers till they bleed

I will go out now
And I will wash my hands in a mountain stream
And I will touch again the face of the sky
And I will touch again the face of the child

And I will leave no stain behind
And I will leave no trace
behind