There are 100 ways to say “I love you,”
I said each one of them to you
Except for those three words
Never knowing if they would heal
Or if they would ultimately harm.
Funny how we say anything
But what we truly want to say,
Because there are certain words
That are etched in stone when spoken
With the power to encourage a heart
To either illuminate and glow
Or close off forever.
It feels like floating underwater
Muffled noise, carried by the current
Heaviness pulling downward like an anchor
While the hollowness keeps us afloat
Feeling nothing and everything at once
And only occasionally coming up for air.
It’s those gasping breaths of oxygen that sting
Reminders that there is still life left to live
That we are feeling, sensitive beings
Swept beneath the current of the unexpected
Tossed by what we cannot control
Cold, afraid, lonely, confused, hopeless,
We break through the surface with a breath
Hoping it is for the very last time
Before we finally reach the shore.
I am always glancing behind
Like an impulse, like a safety check.
Do I have the strength to keep moving?
Am I prepared to let go?
Making sure my intuition reinforces
What my mindless autopilot already knows,
That whenever I attempt to lunge forward
I am consistently propelled back
As if flung by an invisible barrier
As if magnetized back on track,
To my soul’s safest landing place
Where the hidden aches are finally seen
In the cobwebbed halls where healing occurred
Drawn to that space between reality and dream.
There are moments when we are transfixed
Pulled into a memory as if stolen from the present
The way we feel when we gaze up at an evening star
Mesmerized, awed, momentarily hopeful, and then…
Fettered back down to the heaviness of the present
Where the air is weighted, where life has broken our spirits
And that star, once so hopeful, seems chillingly far away
Wistfully shining, mockingly out of reach.
Lost is where we we eventually find ourselves
Not from our external, but from our internal compass
When the noise of opinion and expectation silences
And the distraction of responsibilities no longer pulls,
Is when we begin to listen to what we need, what we know
Discovering the inner map leading to our breakthroughs.
Lost can be the catalyst for essential questions
Who am I? What is important? Where should I go?
When we realize that no one else can give the answers
That only exist within the corners of our souls.
Who are we listening to when we must decide the next step?
What are we allowing ourselves to be motivated by?
Where do we go when we are downtrodden and confused?
When do we know when our heart and mind align?
In the reflection of light off of the fallen snow
In the spaces between the stars that glimmer in the dark
In-between breaths, in the pause before an exhale
Is where I seek for deeper, underlying meaning.
In each sunset sigh of both awe and despair
When I feel both inspired and terrified by my existence
As my feet walk forward but my heart draws me back
I find the willpower to both disintegrate and accept.
In those precarious hours of sleeplessness
When the world is quiet but the mind is restless and loud,
I allow myself to open the vaults of hidden suffering
Trusting in the space in-between mind and soul.
May your heavily burdened shoulders be lifted
May your tears fall freely with those you love
May what is hidden be unearthed with clarity
May you be guided by a purpose from above
May your lonely heart begin to find healing
May the road ahead unfold softly as you go
May you see the magnificence in you that I see
May you trust in what your soul already knows.
I feel the walls closing in around the soft places of my heart
Unwittingly, without permission, as if by unconscious command
Whether to protect or to derail, I know not, dear soul,
Only that the corners of my mind still connected to hope are fading
And I am powerless to this unwanted fate.
Maybe it is better, in the end, to feel the gradual numbness grow
Than to succumb to a pain unlike any I have known
The sharp void of of knowing the truth, the inescapable truth,
Of my own flaws and losses combined into one perfect storm.
Eventually, healing will catch up to the fragmented heart pieces
Generating a battle-worn version, a guarded hologram of me,
Finding myself again in the hidden maze of life
Still soft, still loving, but never again the same.
In your eyes there is a glimmer of sadness
And I will not pry, dear soul, I will not dig,
Knowing, as you know, that we must keep hidden
The desolate melodies of our human experience
When younger hearts depend upon our strength.
When the last lamps have faded into dark,
When silence swallows up the words you wish to say,
Is where I’ll meet you, dear soul, in the oblivion
As a quiet presence there with you until day.
The world outside is covered in a landscape of snow
Hauntingly beautiful, callously cold,
As if following the trajectory of my old, listless soul
Winter winds whispering songs that only I know.
There is melancholy in this season of frost
Where we wander through the bitterness, aimlessly lost
Like travelers seeking bridges we have already crossed
Reliving our pasts while knowing the cost.
There is darkness on the starless, winter road
Our eyes ever-searching for the gleam of an abode
Where our hearts may be lifted, our souls warmed
And finally we can feel again the welcome of home.
The Therapy of Words