Unwrapping the Message

The message you failed
was schoolyard normal,
your sense of self
pulled down to the pavement,
ground like chalk.
You recover, create someone
who faces the world
in the way you admire
yet even if you fool the world
you know who’s behind the mask,
who you were told you are.
Some appear not afflicted,
others cured more easily,
but there in the dark
no amount of make-up
can hide the broken visage.
This is what the world says
on the tape inside your head.
There’s another message
the earth holds for you
when you’re ready to unwrap it.
It tells you of a kit fox,
a yearling deer, an old stag elk,
a river falling white and cold
and in her wholeness
a place for you, unadorned,
edges fading into tree bark,
rising mist your companion.
You weren’t broken after all.
She’s known it all this time
and now, so do you.

 

 

 

 

photograph by Eilish Hynes

 


Maybe This Morning

Maybe this morning
as darkness thins
with light slowly approaching,
words will fall like rain
to feed the root of trees.
Maybe the trees will forgive us
and take this nourishment,
showing the way once more
to the deep cache of winter.
And maybe then we will know
the way forward through this night,
holding close the faceted promise
of earth’s true love.

 

 

 

encaustic painting by Eilish Hynes