A New Thought

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Sometimes, as we grow, what we build starts to be confining. This poem speaks to my own experience of this.


 


A New Thought


After so many years, I was surprised


that the self I built in order to survive


was only a tent that had no roof. And


finally looking up, I learned from the


stars how to stay in place and whisper my


light. And loosening my grip, I found the


things I held, that I thought would protect,


had grown so heavy, I had to put them down.


My beliefs had rusted into a sword too dull


to cut anything. And my secrets had blossom-


ed and withered inside my little hand. So I


took the beliefs turned weapons apart, and


washed the dead secrets from my heart.


After so much work to keep things out,


it scared me to realize—there was no


opening to my tent. And so with love,


this very day, I rip a hole in my


oldest self, so I can get out and


drink of the world.


 


 


A Question to Walk With: Describe something you’ve built—a dream, a relationship, a career—that in time become too confining. How did you work with this?

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Published on January 19, 2015 07:01
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