Community Words: writing by Beverley Thomas
"for the girl that is gone and for the woman that is left to be..."
Hello beautiful readers. Feeling the sunshine in my soul, hope you all are too.
A slightly different and exciting missive for you all today! Part of my mission for A Wild Archive is to share the writings made by folks who’ve attended my writing workshops or readers of this publication ~ to create a community of words, to uplift, support and inspire each other. This is about heart/soul/roots/raw writing. It’s about the ‘feels’ of the words and the shivers in between.
Please give a warm welcome to Beverley Thomas, A Wild Archive’s first community contributor! Beverley is sharing her poetry and writing here, which she created during three nature-allied writing workshops this spring. Thank you Beverley!
Beverley Thomas is a Black British writer, of Caribbean heritage. Winning the Sean Ferrin award for best produced film - Neffy, she has work published in the Dream Catchers Magazine and is a member of Northern Women Writer’s Guild. Beverley is currently doing a creative English Literature PhD at University of Sheffield and is a member of the Lit Collective.
Untitled
Through the branches of the Japanese Cherry tree
I search for you
I want to let you know
That I am sorry
Through the brilliance of the pink and white flowers
You do not see me
I stand still
But you do not hear me
Yet the Cherry tree whispers your name - earnestly
With the longing of a child
But you do not hear
You do not feel
Your rage consumes the beauty that is you
With a fire that blocks out
Both our past and present
I move closer to you
But there is a barrier
Fuelled by unforgiveness and pain
And yet, I wait by the branches of the Japanese Cherry tree
Blooming like a cloud ready to rain
No, wait, it has already rained
And I wait
But you do not see…
Wild Roots
My wild roots are
Beyond the borders
You place on me
They transcend
The imagination of
Your limited mind
When I nurture these wild roots
They excite me with
Their feralness
Their unbounded capacity
To find joy, laughter,
Sorrow, pain
I embrace their
Richness,
Nervousness
And am at peace
Embedded in their stillness
Moving forward in their flow
They nurture me
Carefully as a precious gift
Steadily, passionately
Reflection
This is a reflection, based on having lived over 50% of my life; when compared to the ages people die in my family. It’s also sobering to know that I have a lot less than 50% yet to live - if I am fortunate enough.
So, what I write here is for the girl that is gone and for the woman that is left to be, and I say these words sisters in all sincerity; do not be so concerned about other people and what they might think of you (it is quite intoxicating to go down that rabbit hole – but you must resist all temptation to do this). Do not even be all that concerned about what you think of yourself; but instead grab hold of life and tickle its balls until it rides you like a rodeo horse hard and fast, and you orgasm with the deliciousness of all that life is offering you.
That is living, loving, being – after all that is why you came to play in this place called planet earth – you came for you and no one else, so don’t get it twisted.
So even if they call you the bastard child of the British Empire wear that title with pride, as it means that your lineage is one of survival from slavery, colonialism, prejudice, racism, and there is nothing that the world can do or say to you now to hurt you.
So fuck it. Let this be your new philosophy of life. You are complete – you came into this world complete – so live. There is no finding yourself or trying to make yourself perfect or whole, as you are already that which you seek.
So ride that bad boy of life and laugh.