The bridge
I arrived at Findhorn to attend the conference on Forgiveness……. and met my cottage mate. I had never imagined how much we would have in common even though I was from Pakistan, living in the States and she born and bred Scottish in essence.
We had both lost our sons in the bloom of their youth, mine to a car accident and hers to the darkness within wherein he stepped off the bridge……. both boys leaving their mothers bereft……. forever.
Here is a poem by her published with her permission:
Peace…….at any cost.
GUEST AUTHOR: M B from Scotland
Four a.m. ….and the living nightmare began. A simple text…two words
“Sorry Mum.”The ‘fixer’ sprang into action
Reassuring, offering alternatives
But, for you, the journey was too difficultAnd so, you flew…..
From the depths of your own despair To a place of safety and calmI rejoiced that in the turmoil of your mind Worry and fear were vanquished…..
But my own heart achedLater, I climbed the hill above your bridge To look down at the sparkling blue waters reflecting the strong summer sunlight
I made a vow (for self preservation)
I would not remember this beautiful spot
as the place you died
But as your gateway to that oh, so elusive peacePeace
A comforting word
But whose peace?
In finding your solution you left others behind Confused, grief stricken, heartbroken
So, in time, you visited!
Through a deep meditative connection you imparted a loving message A powerful feeling of your euphoria engulfed me
To prove you had moved on happily to a different dimensionTravel with ease on this new journey my beautiful, troubled son Feel the sun and touch the sky
And know, that always and ever
My heart travels with you.
For David from Mum October 2014 ( 3 years on )
Siraat-e-Mustaqeem 