Turning Inward

Cautiously tiptoeing out of survival mode,

She saw for the first time since the world fell apart

That her soul was aching,

So cloaked in fear and haunted by imminent threat

She had failed to notice the damage inflicted

On the inside.

There had been no time for processing,

No other option than to keep breathing

Focusing only on the basic physical existence

Of those she loved, of herself too,

Too traumatized to consider that deep within her consciousness

A heaviness had taken its toll.

After her body began a slow recovery into better days

Uncertainty hesitantly giving way to cautious optimism

She turned her attention inward, to the unsettling emptiness

Apologizing to her own neglected heart

For not noticing sooner its diminished state

Failing to hear its quiet but persistent inner pleadings

For support, for healing, for hope.

Perhaps she had instinctively known the impossibility

Of preventing her heart from bleeding out

So she had left it to its own defenses

While fear and illness had taken over her nervous system,

Seeing only now in the miracle of life beyond certain death

That it had survived through its worst battle yet

Silently and bravely, proving again and again its resilience.

Now she cradles her heart carefully in her palms

Listening, finally listening, to its soft-spoken voice

Hearing, finally hearing, its rudimentary needs,

For hope in the unrelenting bleakness

For safety in the throes of uncertainty

For closeness in isolation

For a chance to live out its purpose

Of healing mind, body, and soul.

Published by Quietest Poet

Writer, mother, counselor, flower gardener, recipe seeker, and Netflix lover.

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