Wednesday, 8 May 2013

8. Richochet


Your words tumble out of your mouth
With a ricochet
Whilst all the time you try so hard
Not to stay
With the painful moment.
We circle each other a while.
Wild gesticulations, eyes everywhere
But meeting mine.

Your words and a land slide of story,
The tools you use to push past
The open heart,
To all I know underneath them
That is gory,
And abandoned,
And utterly sad.

“Shhh, little girl”
I want to say.
Though in years you have advance on me.
But perhaps it was easier for me
To shed those tears
My own wounding made.

“Look, sweetheart!”
I want to say.
“There is a little girl stuck on a harsh rock, crying.
She needs you to take care of her.
She needs you to be still.
She needs you to rock her gently,
Back to loving herself.”

And I know you will.

When the standoff with frightened wild horse-words has bolted,
Run out of steam,
And come back through the open gate.
When you can both invite and respond to yourself.

And when you can trust
That I really do love the little girl I see in you.

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