Last night, I wrote myself through a nightly terror:
The Code
When lungs are raisin-dry and dirty demons nibble at your feet,
when you can’t take a breath and cannot cry for help cause there is no-one there to meet
this agony with anything at all, you’re stumbling through the night
and stubbing toes on stones and hearing angry voices who just may be right
in their insistence that you’re not worthy of a life,
you have done something wrong and just this knife
is all you need, to put an end to it and plunge it in your heart.
Since then this pain will have to end, you think, that seems so evident and smart
if only you could find the code to tell you where you fail and sin,
then you could remedy your ways and calm the screams and din
of this old mind that never stops in finding reasons for your pain
-but as you seek for them, you know that trying to find rest will be in vain.
And trying to get out of it and feeling good again is doomed, you say!
Then Love says, now go to the heart and stay
there, child, just let it be, allow it space to breathe; that darkness is just shadow play.
Now turn toward it Sweetie, tell it, hey
old agony, old friend, what if we have some fun instead and write a pome
about it. The Muse is here to take you Home.
We may just recognize the simple truth right here to be:
The Code for healing agony is Play, you see
*
In the morning, I woke up from a reaction I have to something going on in the world – feeling the horrible energy from it.It feels like a global scream.
Exactly at the moment I notice this scream, I am reminded: this is just an energy in the mind that I haven’t forgiven. It’s not “mine,” it’s not serious – it’s not a sign that I have done something wrong- it’s just this energy.”
I turn toward it and say, “welcome! Welcome. Welcome” with a full heart –
and it’s just not there anymore