Robin’s Hope

Robin’s Hope
A poem by Victoria Walk

Feeling timid and trepidation, hand pushes open the red door; the color of a Robin’s breast. 

Welcome, come in, so happy you are here, please, feel at home, sincere voices sing out. Walls adorn with feelings, emotions, beautiful art filled with colors, tumbling happily, taking over all available space. 

Nervous, begging stomach to keep contents in place, urging legs to walk forward.  Find a seat, sit down, feeling like a clumsy ox amongst kind faces. 

Chatting goes on all around the table, words of encouragement, words of comfort, words just acknowledging we see you, and you matter. There is a desire to join in but left unspoken. 

It begins, listen to guidelines and be very still, maybe they won’t see the ox sitting there so uncomfortably.  Ask to pass, not believing anything credible could be added by your input. 

Faces give verbal responses to prompts; some pained, some neutral, and some happy for a triumph, no matter the size; everything is equal, all acknowledged, each celebrated. 

There is a feeling, a vibration, in the air of this space.  Hard to pin down just what it is, The Faces feel it too but it’s easy to see they know its name. 

Zoom, at home, groups continue to gather, to write, to read, to discuss, to encourage, to celebrate individual self and all of its parts. 

Weeks go by, now anticipation, desiring to be there participating in all offerings, no trepidation is found. Comforted by knowing you are part of the Faces and yes, your input does matter and so do you. 

 Upon entering the sudden feeling of the wings of Robin, surround and pull you close, laying your head amongst softest of feathers, hearing rhythmic beating of the heart.  Recognition dawns, the feeling, the vibration, it is Love, it is Acceptance, it is Caring, it is Healing, it is the harbor of Safety. Here to find and be given the resilience against trauma. 

There is no size to trauma because the damage; the pain, the guilt, the shame, are seen for what they are, the toll taken to soul, to spirit, to the heart. 

But for this the sun shines on a new day, promising, found within this sheltered harbor, offering the ability not to forget the chasing monsters, but to stop them in their tracks, see them for what they are, breaking the hold over heart, over life. 

The capability to hold head high, to reveal pain, slowly at individual speed, reduce in size, to find the words to describe self and all its parts.  To find joy again, a long lost and wanted friend.  

To see, to feel, to believe, to heal, this is Robin’s dream sprung to life and this all is 

Robin’s Hope 

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