There is someone beautiful who I know.......
A door has opened for her .....
In that door stands an old man.....
He is the monster of her choosing......
Born long before she was.....
Destined to take from her source ....
Again and again in a most peculiar way.....
For he was a thief of soul.....
And when a soul-thief takes what is not their own....
It takes one who has chased his own monster....
To remind the other of who they chose to be.....
To lead them but for a short while....
Through the remains of their tattered garden.....
To dig until the roots are exposed....
Like the bear digs for nourishment in a rotted log....
Rending and tearing the chunks.....
To get to the heart....
To help restore it to its natural power....
For that power has long been there....
I know a little girl who smiles shyly at me...
but she won't speak because she is afraid
She watches me from a distance all the time....
hiding behind another face
I'm reminded of windows from which we daydream...
longing for knights in shining armor
I try to reach her but she draws the sash
and still...when I turn to wave she is there
peering at me from a gap between the blinds....
3 comments:
So many children asking for help!...
i love the echoes here... the soul thief. oh to have that reaching hand to guide you along the way.
There are so many women I know who this resonates from their pasts...It is good when I can help them learn to dance again. Molestation is an ugly thing when it is kept close and continuously festers....burning like phosphorous in the heart.
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