Behind His Eyes

My sister alerted me to a fellow blog friend's entry this week that touched on the roller coaster life of a family with a bipolar child. This journey we are on is fraught with frustration, heartbreak, challenges that often seem insurmountable. There are also many joys and milestones along the way. Our Connor just had his first real triumph, recently. I shared his spelling bee success with my friends and family on here.

I thought I would share, once more, the poem I wrote for and about Connor several years ago. I think it touches a chord in any family member who lives with a child or adult who has bipolar disorder.

(For Connor)

Behind his eyes,
blue as the sky on a summer day
turmoil churns like
a wall cloud before the
tornado drops.
To decipher the emotional landscape
is to probe the depths of uncharted territory.

I’m no cartographer.

I tread gently, blindly.
I fumble as I try to read the Braille of his psyche;
but, I can’t see past the shadows.
His highs and lows rise and dip
like an unstable weather pattern
where sunshine belies the coming storm.
A bright smile and clear eyes can spin off
into ominous gales.

I reach for the shards of light. Perhaps
a clue, perhaps…
Too quickly the shadows appear, again.
Just when I think I can forecast the triggers,
pinpoint the offending cloud, the light shifts
and I’m caught blinking helplessly in the clarity
of my ignorance.

~~~ Pam Patterson © 2006