© Photographer: Anatomyofrockthe | Agency: Dreamstime.com
I don't celebrate Halloween - too dark for me. However, a few years ago, while in the midst of waking up and walking through the disenfranchised grief of my own personal relinquishment, adoption, and reunion, I wrote this poem for Neither Here Nor There. Because it scared even me, I thought I'd share it with Lost Daughters today. This "happy adoptee" can attest. The darkness is real.
"Lost & Found: The Primal Scream"
Memories buried deep within my soul
Hidden from everyday existence;
To protect the mask I hold
Tightly gripped by shaking hands
That hurt and ache like frozen death
Cover my face; the facade
The real me is dead
No life or love or personality
the soul inside me tried to flee
The terror of nothingness came
the day they "sealed" my name
Memories buried deep within my soul
Hidden from everyday existence;
To protect the mask I hold
Tightly gripped by shaking hands
That hurt and ache like frozen death
Cover my face; the facade
The real me is dead
No life or love or personality
the soul inside me tried to flee
The terror of nothingness came
the day they "sealed" my name
Lost: One dead baby at the courthouse with "Certificate of Live Birth" sealed around its neck, tightly riveted to a desk of "this is best"
Found: An imitation life living the lie created the day they made her "sign"
shell of existence; underground hiding; scared to come out, revealing
Pain seeping out my pores
muscles tight
muscles tight
head pounding, blood boiling
froze
froze
It isn't fair for death to give life
and leave unannounced
to a terrorist plot
Gone in a moment; wake up to the day
of new life and name: adoption's cruel game
amended reality; in courts to fulfill
amended reality; in courts to fulfill
Shamed with ink; fate by pen
entombed; locked away
The corpse baby comes to life to terrorize and maim
the family name
no tears it cries; it's dead inside
moving on energy not its own
Eyes glazed over, talking dead
spewing lies that fuel it's head
spewing lies that fuel it's head
no life inside, just a shell
living this life in silenced hell
of rescued bastard
baby shame with no real name
of rescued bastard
baby shame with no real name
Set me free with ties that bind
turn these black dead veins
into real live blood
"Adoption" in the original Biblical language was not the same form of adoption that is practiced in today's society, with it's falsifying of birth records, elaborate brokerage networks and exchange of money. What Christianity now calls "Orphan Care" actually reeks with the stench of child-trafficking; all dolled up and "legal".
When I hear a Pastor compare our relationship with God to being "adopted", my heart aches. The book of I John says we are born of God ('sperma'). We have no need of "adoption"; instead, we receive the spirit of sonship, whereby we call Him Abba (Daddy) - "reunited" (better translation of the original text) with our Creator, who lovingly gives His own life to "redeem" us (meaning "to buy back" from slavery; to pay a ransom).
still screaming from the womb of my mother, once alive
Do it freely without pay; our family names
not fake or wrought in greed
Make real, I plead
Raise up like Lazarus, who stunk with rot
three days dead; decades lost
three days dead; decades lost
free our children from this web
Break the yoke off our necks and tear off these bonds
Save us from a distant land and our descendants from exile.
You are a chosen generation...to show forth the praises of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light.
I Peter 2:9
