This Ceremony precludes
Sometimes, even reason.
It is done, so it is done.
That moment you’re told
No one would hold your hand.
If you fall, you pick yourself up.
Dust your knee, look not for succor
To treat the first abrasion
On your heart.
The unwritten training manuals of life
Are etched far more permanently
In the minds of those under whose
Tutelage you might find yourself.
When you fall in love.
Play that straight, passionate,
With all the heart you have.
And then learn it’s tough
To have a heart at all.
Far better off without one
But no one ever told you that.
Instead, the stories of your childhood
The music of your adolescence
The sorority sessions,
The locker room lessons…
They merely ratified, certified maybe,
But constantly reiterated the
Legendary magic of Love.
You sigh, perhaps. In resonance?
I understand. I’m precisely where you are.
That time when you knew
You’d reached a point of no return
Yet look backward, into the pools
Of time, peering past the
Blackness, to pick out something
That shines through.
At times a clear and lucid image flashes.
At times it’s merely a tremor of trauma
All foggy, but the chill creeps all the way to
Do you stop looking back?
Them manuals do tell you, Don’t.
As with the child, that your heart finally is,
(though you think it old and broken beyond reason)
You do precisely that which you aren’t to do.
Then wonder at that threshold
Where you stand. Dying to go back,
For there is a comfort in the pain, the joy
That once was.
And nothing but terror in the path ahead.
Till that voice inside takes charge
Helped by that voice outside…
The one that owns the hand
Stretched out to shake yours.
Or maybe, just intertwine your fingers together…
And tug you, and your heart, onward.
The unknown trail, you’d take
Or the path you’d make.
To the you, you’ll be.
(And God Bless! ❤ You shall get to you 🙂 )
25 April, 2017
Day#25 of #NaPoWriMo 2017, National Poetry Writing Month 2017