The truest of beauty

I looked for the stars in an empty sky,
then I see them twinkling in your precious eyes.
I looked to the world for beauty unseen
I find it right there in your fearsome belief.
I looked in the faces for pure kindness you see,
then I saw it was all that you were able to be.
I looked to the universe for a reason to see,
and the universe gave you, to me.

Karen Hayward ©2015.

Crossing the void

My dearest, see now how the sun kisses
the ashes of your soul that swim through
the days tide that ebbs and flows searching for home. Alas, you are home,
paradise to an eternal soul, I touch my
fingers to the calm motion of your love
and for a moment I feel your touch. You crossed dimensions to stand at my side,
traversed the oceans on a waning moon to feel the essence of my soul and with every falling ebb I whisper to the far of waves, I miss you. . . for who now will hear of my secrets, who now will understand the macabre laughter of my soul and who now will tell me how to love and just when I think I am alone the tide once more, kisses the shore.

Karen Hayward ©2017

Image found on wordpress

To my baby girl.

img_20160229_153119.jpg

Baby girl, when you were born and they placed your beautiful soul into my arms I made you, one, single, promise. I didn’t promise you diamonds or wealth, I promised the only thing I could give, love. There would never be a moment in your life when you wondered if I loved you, you would know this at a core soul level. When you was two and the doctors said, you have learning needs, I made you one, single, promise, I would become the voice you needed. I would fight every fear I have to stand toe to toe with authority, I would be your soldier. When you was five and you waltzed into that classroom, I made you just the one, single, promise, that even though you could not see me, I was there, always, wings outspread protecting you. When you were seven and you said, I don’t want to go to school, my heart broke, they had broken you and for a split second I let the world suffocate me, my soul burning in the ashes I was reborn. I screamed louder, I searched harder, I stopped at nothing, I became the dreaded parent that every teacher hates. When you was eight and you said, I like school, I once again began to breathe. This year I’ve seen your anxiety reach new levels, I’ve watched as finally your voice became a whisper, I’ve watched you crumple and bounce back again and one day I will write of when you was nine and everything changed, yet nothing changed for my promises to you, baby girl, they are a lifetimes promise. And so the story begins, when you was nine and you got to spend time with the therapy dog I saw the hinted whisper in your eyes that finally they could hear your inaudible cries. ♥

 

Karen Hayward ©2016

Please, never thank me.

image

Thank you…never have these words hurt more than when you are sobbing in my arms.
Thank you… never does a tear come so close then when fear has you in its grip…and you are thankful that I am there.
Thank you…never more than now have I wanted to tell you to please, please forget your manners.
For never when you are breaking do you need to thank me for being there.
Never.

Karen Hayward ©2016

More storms, we are camped out eating ice creams under the covers 😀

The sound of angelic bells against an ebbing tide.

Last night whilst my eyes were closed

and my mind shut down I dreamed

of the ocean. Clouds skirted above and

a grey hue hung from the air in crytalised

perfection. At first I stood alone,

just the grains of sand beneath my feet,

the damp mist at my skin and the soft

ebbing ocean that appeared to be stilled

and yet was simply moving in a low beat.

Then I saw her in the distance, laughing as

she ran in and out of the cool fresh ocean.

Droplets of water gently slipping through

the air and splashing, lovingly against her.

Her giggles of delight dancing across

the horizon, waltzing across the white

foam and cart wheeling across the shore.

I sat down and watched as she played at one

with the universe and the universe

played back.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015.

Autism, some ask if I wish it were another way!

Autism, some ask if I wish it were another way,

when this happens I sigh and wonder what to say.

Yes, yes I do wish that life were another way.

 

I wish society would open their eye’s,

and stop making my little girl cry,

just pause, and see life through her eye’s.

 

I wish that her needs really didn’t matter,

I wish for less stupid idol chatter

and more dedication to the real things that matter.

 

I wish you could see how happy she is without a coat

understand she isn’t being stubborn when she refuses, ‘nope!’

the heat, the feel, the sound, the weight all this from a coat.

 

I wish you didn’t see her size and think oh my,

5ft 6 and only 8, she almost touches the sky,

Treat her according to height, and I think oh fucking my!

 

I wish there was no need to say these things,

I wish you could hear her as she sings

and watch her as she assembles things.

 

I wish you could see a child that loves

rather than the child that can’t get enough

who constantly needs to know that she is safe and loved.

 

I wish you wouldn’t say ‘but she looks so norm…’

our entire life isn’t one big storm!

Not to mention the fact that she actually is the norm.

 

Yes, I wish things were another way,

I wish everyone knew the right things to say,

and mostly I wish, that there was no other way.

 

Karen Hayward © 2015.

 

 

 

 

A mothers voice in chaos.

♥ For Emily-Rose, always I will be your voice.

 

Dear Teacher,

They tell me to empower you to show you the way

to tell you the things that you really should say.

They tell me to stay calm and use positive words

but surely you know the definition of these terms.

Individuals you say you treat them the same

a contradiction of words your excuses are lame.

But you know best, you learned from a book

and just a few years is all it took.

You’ve seen it before you’ll see it again

these kids to you are simply a pain.

They need this, they need that

and fidget constantly where they are sat.

They’re calm, they’re a whirlwind, a tornado of sorts

and no one really knows what’s in those thoughts.

So hard to reach

so hard to teach,

so listen now to a mothers speech.

Listen to me and you’ll hear her voice

anxiety is not her choice.

She doesn’t choose to with hold

or do exactly what she’s told.

She isn’t all smiles and happy and love

why can’t you see she finds school tough?

Open your eye’s and watch how she flies,

can’t you see how much she tries?

she mimics the world but the clues are there

please, just show her that you actually care.

Do as you tell and look as you see

be the person you want her to be.

Don’t tell her you will, you can and it’s done

her fears are real not a bit of fun.

I know she’s a mouse in a black hole of silence

but the anxiety she feels is an internal violence.

Stop looking past, over and through

show her that she can trust you.

Each day I stand back and watch her walk

knowing she’s spending another day unable to talk.

You’ll utter across her avoiding her eyes,

‘why didn’t tell me? Why?’

Your tone has gone up, your body has moved

gone is the voice all tender and smooth.

She did wrong, she did wrong and doesn’t know why

her tears are swelling she just wants to cry.

But you hold that stare, the one filled with fear

waiting for the answer to suddenly appear.

The answer to what? The why’s and the hows

forgotten by the now’s?

Why am I telling you this

you trained for years to become their Miss.

Why every few months are we here once again

whatever I tell you, it ain’t gonna change.

So I take a deep breath and think of glitter

trying to push back the emotional bitter.

I smile and talk and go through the list

hoping to God there’s nothing I’ve missed.

You’ll nod and agree and say you can see

this is reality, the way it will always be.

 

Karen Hayward ©2015