I am gregarious
initiator
risk-taker
eagerly anticipating
the unknown
But the subconscious
alights on old stories
gathers sanctimonious
rumours of unworthiness
spits out shame
and rage
Reveals the truth –
I am vulnerable.
(Facing Truths first appeared here July ’19. This version is edited from original. Art my own.)
Brought you my pain –
swaddled like a baby,
a tiny fledgling
not yet ready to fly –
craved nurturing –
missed the hawkish glint,
the vicious drool –
all remnants of sanity
now shredded.
Outlets, I have plenty,
for the excrement that accumulates
within these challenged walls
I soak and scrub, and
paint my cabinets yellow
hoping the optimism will sink in
will match the green of my smile
the expansiveness of my exterior
but the in-dwellers are provoked
question ego’s motivation
in selling off the residence
shaking their sedentary slumber
there was respite in disability
an imposed seclusion that calmed
the worries, invited complacency
who can rest in this motorized
uprooted reality, and what purpose
will evolve from the overflow
of emotions that flood, flashes
of insecurity, defying wisdom
threatening to cloud our sunshine?
Confront intrusion
head on, but know
that it comes with
a single focus, and
not from the sleep
of complacency.
Investigate when
it awakens you,
but be aware that
armed with the
element of surprise
it will overcome you,
tie you up in knots,
render you helpless,
oppressed, mute;
the vulnerability you
fight to protect, now
your only strength.
Fragility relying on
resourcefulness will
counterattack, take
appropriate measures,
stumble, falter, miss
at first, but in the end
conquer the invader,
reaching out for help
humbled enough to
admit dependency,
eyes open to solutions,
compassion awakening.
Isolation is disruption’s
ally; shared experience
unmasks the threat,
tears open its cover,
unites purpose, and
in communion prevails.
One Woman's Quest 