As We Enter Deep Places

So, at a level far below that of language, the feeling meaning of the story goes inside you, into a very deep, dreaming place.  Into the place where your deepest feelings reside.  And there it changes who you are, just as all good stories do. ~ Stephen Buhner, Plant Intelligence

In polite conversation, it’s just not done

to say, “She hated me,” and so I laugh,

as if the emotion has no substance.

Expecting some bland reply, if any —

ah, it’s an enigma

that you feel so blue.

Feel better now.  Is it only

natural to sidestep these deep 

openings? But you love me

and you ask me to embrace

my grief and pain and pure pissed-off

chagrin at her hostility.

You pull me out into the garden

redolent with peppermint and fresh-cut grass

gifts from the breeze

over the spring-fed pond.

The coolness heralding the turning

toward the fall, 

when all things appear 

to die after a blaze of vivid

protest or celebration.

Your hand in mine, my emotions

free to move as we pace

into the unknown places

this moment has revealed.

 

Inspired by: Enigma, SubstanceBlue, Redolent, Natural

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

7 thoughts on “As We Enter Deep Places”

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