(A Poem For An Old Friend)
Resides now inside my heart
I looked for her outside
Opening doors, windows
Peeping in alleyways
And I never found her.
There is this cement
That walls people together
Congruently, even if dysfunctionally,
A place I never found but for moments
Or could run back to with
Familiar language of all is okay.
I knew detachment before
The age the mystic generation—a
Thousand times risking loss to faces
Who seemed like maybe they knew, but
Trying to attach seemed a strange place
Which I could never master, though I tried.
Most things I saw made no sense–
For the most part, led to war, divisions,
Divisiveness, predators, but rarely love.
And those who said they loved, well,
More than not they never did, beyond what?
Need, fear, ego and lack of wholeness, so
People often feared me. I saw the places,
Which they lay hidden from view, but
Not my view where it was bright and glaring.
I had no need to expose them, though they
Beyond their best attempts, lay bare.
It was just a way of seeing—boundary less.
Too many changing hands, shifting perspectives,
So it all formed into a seamless whole with
No need to retreat into a cave of solitude.
My life was its own cave, its own retreat—
A hunt for answers never found beyond crumbs
Cast here and there amongst the weeds
With a long haul till loneliness became solitude—
A long haul till what was most painful changed
To blessings which healed my life and
For others could the same. “I took the road
Less traveled, and it has made all the difference.”
It is not the story after all, but what you do with it.
It’s not the words racing through the brain; it is
The soul hidden wordless and knowingly bringing
Forth the gifts you gave, along the way. Catch it.
It is a sleeping dream waking, because that place
Sets the worlds illusions to rest. It is the place
Where strength, resilliance and love ever tested
Finds home and reality cuts illusion like
In a childhood game of rock, paper, scissors.
©Roseroberta 11/28/2012
