When I woke up from surgery,
Something was amiss.
The monitor beeped,
The plink plink of the dripping ringed,
The tubes were plugged into me
And my head felt numb
Like a dried-up earth
Ripped from nourishment
And cracked in pain.
When I touched my head,
I almost cried in fear
Of my velvety flowing hair.
I remembered the nurse’s words,
“No need to plait her hair,
It’s all going to be shaved off”, they said.
I have learned, from watching others
That the plaited hair will be spared
From the surgeon’s merciless shaver.
I was prepared for it to all go,
And leave my head bold
Like a dried-up earth
Ripped from nourishment
And cracked in pain.
When my hair grew back,
I treasured every thread.
The thin, soft, tender growth,
Like a fresh born baby’s hair,
Gave me a new life
A new chance to live the world
The delicate sprouts,
Are full of life
Like little soldiers
Ready for a battle
To protect the dried-up earth
Ripped from nourishment
And cracked in pain.
When the hair covered my head,
No one knows
How much pain hid underneath
No one sees
The stitch lines
That will forever remain
Like fault lines
On the earth surface
Transforming the landscape
Forever and for ever
As a stark reminder
Of the catastrophic earthquake
That once took place
Ripping up the earth surface
Mercilessly.
And when the fault lines become history
The tears didn’t go away
The sunshine dimmed
The new landscape of the cracked earth
Presented new mountains to climb
New valleys to tread
New rivers to swim in
In silence
In loneliness
In abandonment
Are the scars within
That lives the memories
Of the tearing and healing
Like a map of the pain and courage
To live life on.
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