Do your clever words
Hide the deeper vein of truth
That threads its way
Beneath the surface of
Artful symetry
Saying much
But telling me little
Of the barricaded places
Deep within which
Your heart hides
If that door is closed
Will I have to listen extra carefully
For some sign of movement
A swallowed truth
One that gives an indication
There is a feeling person alive in there somewhere?
Or will my hovering and hoping and waiting
All be in vain
Confused impressions of denial slowly breaking down inside of me
And if I cannot admit this painful truth to myself
Will the wound be fatal?
Maybe anyway
The deepest wounds
Always reside in a place far beyond words
Perhaps they are composed of a vastly different substance
Maybe they will always only ever remain
Hidden inside
Disguised in the form of mysterious sensations
We struggle to bring insight to
With the limited ability of our mind
Trapped in the prison of a body
That is screaming
To be heard
Is there
A liminal place existing within us
Brought into being when what is done to us
Enters our tissues
Blocking signals to the thinking mind
Does this repressed energy
Live inside of us
For years
Buried there
Slowly trying to make its way towards the surface
Could it be that our anxiety is three parts trepidation
One part suppressed grieving
Fear of being not enough
Terror at our vulnerability
Return of the repressed
Of dark truths and knowledge
Perhaps almost too much for our minds and hearts to admit
But so necessary to feel
To restore our
Lost vitality
Emerging From The Dark Night 