Feeling reassured by Edith’s reception, I raise my hand to
tree. The honesty of mother’s hope to see herself watching
go next.
the scene—alive and well. I love it. What about the rest of you; what stays with you?”
“I wrote something,” I announce. Sharon’s feedback takes me by surprise. Whether the “Go ahead,” Sharon nods.
poem is good or bad doesn’t matter. I feel heard, seen, and understood. The other writers encourage me too.
My Window
The strength of that experience—reading what I wrote and
From my window, I see
having it witnessed and affirmed, feeds a nascent desire
you grown and strong
to write that has been with me since childhood. It teaches
my brown boy shot up
me that I might have something to say that can touch
like a sugar cane allowed to keep
others. It’s the discovery of a wadi I will walk through in
going your dark hair shining
the barren territory of my isolation, at other times in my
your impossible smirk
illness. It is learning to listen to myself and telling others
your bright eyes glowing.
what it means to be alive in this moment.
I look out my window and see
Writing also holds an incredible potency that I will try and
you, my pixie-girl
understand but fail to discover until years later. It has the
your fox-hair jutting out
potential to heal and restore, and I will watch it wield its
like flicks of fire
restorative power time and time again—first on me, then
emerald eyes sparkling
on others, and years later, when I become the facilitator
your wicked smarts.
of the same writing group that I’ve attended for the first time today. Through writing, something will dislodge itself
Self-possessed both of you
inside me, open a pathway to another life and make me
my children
feel whole despite the fractured self I didn’t recognize
under the magnolia tree
through the worst days of my illness.
laughing loud as its scent— clean and untattered, voluptuous with life. Ali Zidel Meyers is a writer, educator, and colon cancer And in the window
survivor. She is passionate about the intersection of writing
I see myself
and healing (and helping others experience it). For over
reflected back
five years, she has led writing groups at Breast Cancer
alive and smiling
Connections in Palo Alto, California and for Stanford’s
not a ghost
Supportive Care program at the Stanford Cancer Center.
but still here and real.
She is also a writing workshop leader at Project Koru. Ali’s work has been published in Survivor’s Review,
I exhale quickly and look up, feel the group’s quiet like a
Coping Magazine, and Chicken Soup for the Soul.
cloak.
Her writing has also been featured in the art exhibitions: Night of Inspiration in White (Los Altos Hills, CA, 2010)
“A rich and illuminated poem,” Sharon breaks the silence.
and Love Your Body (North Carolina, 2007).
“The simile of the boy like sugar cane and the girl’s
She earned runner-up status in the Mendocino Coast
fire-hair—draw such sweetness and vitality out. And the
Writer’s Conference Contest (2009) for her poetry.
synesthesia of laughing bright as the scent of the magnolia
More of her work can be found at Holy Mess.
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