Thursday, August 9, 2007

The Mirror


I’m always scrying
For the past or the future
Never looking into this moment
I miss my life

The past pulls with such violence
My own anger at others
Reflected rage at myself
Internalized rejection of a child
Grown into destructive patterns in the world
This gut wrenching grief
Again and again
Releasing into Joy?

I don’t know
I’m too confused
Just grateful for some movement
The constipation of suffering
Finally beginning to loosen
In the grace given rain of compassion

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