here am i

i begin as everything,
and before you decide
whether you should like me,
i should probably tell you
that whilst it was durga i took
for my deity,
all goodness, pure and kind,
it was because i couldn’t admit,
even to myself,
it was kali who stalked
the inside of my all;

though i was drawn to shiva,
it took me a long time to see
the beauty of birth,
in his razing destruction,
it took me a long time to stop
trying to make sense of chaos;

i made my way here
in a meteor shower,
clinging to a phoenix’s tail feather.

before you ask yourself,
but where is here?
i will tell you that,
here is a place of burning,
yet also a time,
honouring the chaos that turns me,
it is how a person might craft medals
from open and old wounds,
it is the beginning and end,
of the whole.

by emma blas

This poem was written in response to "what's in a name", a series of reflective prompts for January hosted by 'M is for Marigold' and Lauren, 'Sweetbriar June'.  It seems, whilst I crave simplicity, I am a complicated person and this poem explores my journey to now, back to my birth name with the addition of a pen (sur) name, by way of three other names. What's in a name? Like everything, a name needs a starting place to unravel from, to return back to. It needs a journey through continents, through time, through its own awareness. It needs a place to hide and grow, where it will become its own warrior and when its ready, come home.

If that is too much of a riddle, I will tell you, that Emma has its origins in Germany, where it means whole, universal. I will tell you that I was given a spiritual name in an ashram in India that will always remind me that I am my fullest potentiality, even if i often fall into forgetting that.  When I first began to share my writing publicly and was wary about sharing too much of myself in social media, I wrote under the pen name Phoenix Rises Poetry. I remain wary, I value authenticity, above achievements, awards or medals, yet people are not always who or how they claim to be. Having adopted Northern Spain as my home, I took the surname Blas symbolically to recognise the importance of Spain in being the inspiration of much of my writing. A Spanish navy officer Blas de Lezo, sustained many injuries in his battles and despite losing a hand, an eye and a leg, he saw his physical limitations and wounds as a medal. Whilst I am a pacifist and do not glorify the act of war, I find his approach to authenticity and honouring all the parts of his experience to the here and now,  refreshing.  Isn't that what we do when we write poetry? Bring awareness to our limitations and wounds and turn them into medals we wear in words?