Thursday, November 3, 2011

the girl who fled

the small girl thought it right
to be selfless,
to relinquish her real wants

the grown-ups praised her
for being good,
so she told herself
to go on giving and obeying

she let them pummel and prod
until she didn't know
who she was
but a bruised flesh slab,
sad and seething

so she receded

heavy on her mind
was confusion,
like the damp black hood
of a sweater three sizes too large

she clenched her musical hands
hidden in the wet cold sleeves,
fearing exploitation

and there,
the suffering swelled
until she yelled into holy silence:
"Undress me, lay me out bare!"

she turned to

the one she could trust:
the teacher
who taught her gently amid the affliction

the one who'd accept her:
the friend
who coaxed her out from seclusion

the noble revealer:
the artist
who opened her hands
to receive the highest love

the committed one:
her lover
who journeys with her even now
        and she gives thanks