Creating A Sacred Space Poem by Louise Tredoux

Cried my sorrows on Rudi’s breast, I didn’t
want to tell him anything, he insisted I tell
him what was wrong, I told him all about the
dressmaker’s son, how he insulted me, how
bad I felt, Rudi commiserated, did not laugh at
my vain heart at all

I confessed to taking a taxi – Rudi sternly forbade
me to do so before; the taxi had an accident, how
terrible the shock when he ran a pedestrian down,
I cried my penitence, promised him I wouldn’t take
a taxi again, explaining I was looking for comfort in
the warmth of my African friends

I cried and cried until all my tears were spent, crying
the shock out of my system; Rudi understood so well,
when we went to bed he softly kissed my head, read
my favourite poem aloud, we cuddled warmly, he
smelled divine, his skin like golden butter under
my exploring lips

Feeling safe and comfortable – wonderful, the horrible
day buried in the past, the overpowering joy of the
present filling me like incense, creating a sacred
space in which my spirit is rejuvenated...