The We in Me
The We of Me
By Tony DeLorger © 2013
Who then stares back at me,
with all those weathered lines and angst,
lost within the blue-toned speckled flecks of my eyes,
looking through to the darkness of what lay beneath,
the bottomless abyss of where a soul resides,
struggling, edging its way into the ascendant light.
Who delves deepest, I wonder,
is it me, or does he see past the blood and bone shell,
into the furthest reaches of buried truths, fears and aspirations,
deep into the flesh of what I am,
beneath the silken text of a would be life,
the hopes lain in a gravel pit, stone walls surrounding.
I see him from a different perspective,
failure etched into flesh, disappointment like a blemish,
distortion the harm of self-loathing,
those secrets of hurt impaled in a heart,
faith dragged through the clog mire,
and foundations shaken, requiring shoring up.
He stares back out of helplessness,
lost to his own culpability, mistakes and misguidedness,
pleading forgiveness and a glimpse of future,
somehow in a haze of speculation and concern,
awaiting the hand of providence,
to restore what has been lost.
I see this picture, a man by a huge elm tree,
windswept and alone, overlooking a fertile valley,
lush and resplendent in life abundant,
he sees this beauty, yet is transfixed, unable to leave his post,
and I am saddened that what eyes can see, cannot be in life,
and I realize this man is me.
No matter who sees who,
the we in me reflects darkness and light,
and lost is but a temporary state,
an impasse of acceptance and self-realisation,
knowing that a flower may bloom in a desert,
and soul may always find light within a world of darkness.
What we learn in reflection is often what others see, and we may know more of who we are from the undertaking.
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