The Man who Takes Care of my Soul
When I was very young, the man who takes care of my soul knocked on the door of my heart and invited me to dance.
It was so exciting!
I jumped up and we tumbled out into the sun and the rain to play
while crystals of colour made a rainbow and eternity passed.
Then the school-bell rang.
I had to learn that two and two made four,
how to ride my bike, how to dress;
how to deal with the bully in the yard at recess.
I had to learn running writing and how to shut up
when grown-ups were talking, sipping tea from a cup.
So I told him to go away.
He gave me his calling-card and he left.
When I was a young woman, the man who takes care of my soul knocked on the door of my heart and invited me to dance.
But I was busy!
There were people to love, some to be near
others to leave; and then, my career.
There was even sport and he didn’t look the sporty sort.
By then there were children, I mean, couldn’t he tell?
Life was too full for his visits as well.
And, why not a woman? Why was he a man?
My female mind rankled; I had other plans.
I had mountains to climb, fish to fry;
errands to run, I don’t know why.
So I told him to go away.
He went away without a word.
From him again I never heard.
Over the years he would sometimes come to mind
His calling card was, I knew, just behind
all my stationery, near an old pen.
I’d kept his card, cos that’s what you do.
You keep calling cards that people give you
even when there’s no intent to ever, ever meet again.
One day in a deep and darkened hole
I rang the man who takes care of my soul.
Yes, there was a number and he appeared!
He looked just the same, not aged- as I feared.
He didn’t knock on the door of my heart or invite me to dance.
We eyed one another and I knew at a glance.
I’d spent years of avoiding this man and my soul.
Would he still help me now in my bid to be whole?
“I’m sorry’ I said, “that I sent you away
when all that you wished was to dance, and to play.
I know I’ve betrayed you; been deaf to your whispers,
It pulls at my heart-strings which lie here in splinters.”
He didn’t respond and I stood there quite lost;
words useless and futile just counting the cost.
I looked at him closely, consumed in my shame
He gazed at me steadily with no hint of blame.
And then drawn in by the light in his eye
I saw that it twinkled and I started to cry.
Then I looked deeper still and saw in that light
the dance of the spheres lifting me from my night.
It wasn’t a question of him, or my life in the world
but of two beating hearts, that together unfurled.
When the man who takes care of your soul knocks on the door of your heart and asks you to dance,
What will you do?
S. Luckwell July 2014
This is Sigari’s second volume of poems to which I’m happy once again to write a brief foreword. Like those of her first volume they are very personal, deeply felt and sometimes raw. As she says in her introduction, she wants you to hear her voice, to imagine her speaking the poems to you. This is easy for me, since I’ve heard her speaking her poems, which she does directly and from the heart.
Perhaps because I know Sigari from holidays in the Lake District, I associate her with William Wordsworth, whose house in Grasmere I have visited with her. She shares with him and focus on what he calls ‘spots of time’, moments in which he felt a close connection to nature or to people, moments of intense feeling which nourish the soul through more difficult or more prosaic times.
Like Wordsworth, Sigari focuses on seemingly small events, little acts of kindness or of contact with other people, small pleasures such as the eating of ice-cream or the sharing of a poem. It is by treasuring these moments, she claims, looking at the world with the wonder of a child, that we are able to ‘create our own souls’ and to preserve them in the wake of the inevitable disappointments and difficulties of life.
There is also a vein of protest running through the poems, protest at the way we treat each other, other nations and the planet. Sigari will often challenge you personally with a direct question, asking what you would do in the same circumstances.
So these poems are not altogether comfortable reading. You will be made to question your assumptions and to think how the world might be made a better place. But I can promise you one thing: you will not be bored.
Emeritus Professor of English Literature
Newcastle upon Tyne, England
About the Author
Sigari was born in London, UK and with RAF parents, her childhood was spent in various parts of the UK, Melbourne Australia, and Germany. At the age of 16, her family emigrated from England to Western Australia. She attended the University of Western Australia and has worked as a Clinical Psychologist for Prisons, Mental Health Departments, Child Guidance Clinics, Student Counselling Services and Community Welfare Departments. During the 1980s, Sigari became involved in the Rebirthing movement and explored the use of Art and Dance in therapy. In 1986 she became a sanyassin of Osho and travelled to his ashram in India in 1987 and 1988 where she enhanced her love of active meditations and Sufi Dancing.
She is currently in private practice and teaches meditation at a local yoga centre. Sigari has two adult children, Holly and Dosh. She lives with her partner Tony on ½ acre of bush in Bunbury, Western Australia that they share with visiting, wild, colourful parrots.
During Sigari Luckwell’s fifth birthday party at home in Ickenham, England, the man who cared for her soul knocked on the door of her heart and invited her to dance. As she witnessed freedom from boundaries and merged with everything and everyone around her, Luckwell knew deep inside—even at such a young age—that she had just experienced something powerful and lasting.
In her second volume of poetry, Luckwell presents thirty-two new poems inspired by that space of merging that has revisited her during many moments of her own choosing. From a poet in Dublin to a macaw that has escaped from a local fish and chip shop, Luckwell offers a glimpse into a wide range of emotions while encouraging others to weep with the asylum seeker, laugh with an aging man eating Irish Whiskey ice cream, and rage at the brainwashing of beautiful young men while they are groomed to inflict terror.
In this moving collection, a seasoned poet challenges others to look at life from a different perspective and to ultimately celebrate life as we find it.
About the Author
Sigari Luckwell was born in London and emigrated to Australia when she was sixteen. She is a clinical psychologist, meditation teacher, and host of a radio show for the heart and soul. Sigari has two adult children and lives with her partner, Tony, in Bunbury, Western Australia, where she enjoys painting and writing.