Can You See Me? (Poem - 2009)

For a few precious moments

I escape,
Into my perfect world.

I'm drifting
Clad in silver
Over a vast ice rink.

I don't feel
I don't think.
I'm right there,
Can you see me?
The real ice queen
I was meant to be.

For a few precious moments
I escape,
Into my perfect world.

I'm singing
This time,
Centre stage
Radio City Music Hall.
I'm up there,
Can you see me?
I'm having a ball!

For a few precious moments
I escape
Into my perfect world.

I'm dancing
In a red dress,
A smile is on my face,
And,
Just because I can,
I'm dancing in the rain.
I'm out there,
Can you see me?
I'm where I want to be.

For a few precious moments
We have escaped
Into our perfect world.

We're standing
Holding hands
In a field of perfect green.
We laugh,
And,
Just because he can,
He gently kisses my cheek.
Can you see us?
We're still in there,
But,
This is no daydream. 

It's necessary for writers' to have a strong imagination. I couldn't do what I do without it. In fact, I couldn't DO without it!

When I was in hospital for all that time, a large part of it was spent flat on my back counting the squares on the ceiling. I was unable to move, and especially during the heat of that summer, time dragged! I created a little world for myself where I could do all the things I can't in reality.

Sometimes, as the poem tells you, I was a figure skater, others I was a dancer, and sometimes I was simply a mum at home with her children. 

That isn't meant to make feel sorry for me, because actually being able to escape like that (usually with music playing through headphones) has given me so much joy and peace when I have needed it most. I suppose it is almost like meditation in a way, and I treasure it.

As my rehab progressed, we were required to spend an hour each day (usually between lunch and more physio), lying on our stomachs with our feet dangling over the end of our beds. They called it lying 'prone' and it was done in order to stretch muscles after surgery.

I still do it most days now when my muscles are cramping and tight, but back then, doing it day after day was painful, not to mention boring!  After a while, I was able to drift into my imagination and with my headphones on and my eyes closed - those hours flew by!

I did it again much later before my GCSE and A level exams.  I would just try and relax. Although, especially when it came to my A level's,  I still went to pot! 

It didn't matter how much I revised, I was panic stricken as soon as I entered the hall. My heart pounded, my hips cramped badly each time, and my hands shook. The writing on the papers swam in front of my eyes, and even though I tried so hard to get a grip, the panic was relentless.

Needless to say, when it came to my A level results, they weren't what I wanted. I managed to completely fail two of them and the third (English Lit) was not the grade it should have been.

Fat lot of use my 'meditation technique' was to me then!

Anyway, later in life it is still useful - especially when I feel down or the pain is particularly bad, I'll either let my mind take me somewhere else or I'll do some singing. I love singing as much as I love writing, and both give me great stress relief. 

The last stanza of the poem is probably the most important to me, because it tells you what happened later, and how reality can be even more special than the dreams ever are.

Yes, I get depressed sometimes (as no doubt you will find out) and yes, I do still need to 'escape', but not so much in the last ten years. 

I'm stronger now, and I know I have my husband's love - exactly as I am. I don't need to be anyone one else. I can be me - and that makes me so lucky.

Love,

H xx