By Jane Tawel
September 25, 2021
I wake and sleep to thoughts,
that my mind makes into strong walls
defending me against peace and rest.
And as my self tries to leap over
the bricks and mortar of my so-called beliefs,
I get caught in the tangles like barbed wire
constructed by doubt and fear
at the highest points of my mind’s reach.
Some days there are brambles in my memories
of you and them,
and they sting like nettles,
and I refuse the salve of letting go.
The air is so close,
and the storm threatens like unforgiveness.
I panic in the calm
knowing that this too, feels like death.
Then, and only then,
does something in my mind break
and the pieces fall into place
forming a rickety ladder of
something made from something I cannot know;
a ladder somehow, for a moment, strong enough
sure enough to trust enough
to scale the walls.
And I feel as I scramble within the brambles,
that love is hidden like rose buds, yet to bloom.
I can see through walls;
the soul rises and falls,
with the hope that all that ever existed
was your love and their love
and my love
and for a moment, just a moment,
I have fallen onto the other side
© Jane Tawel, September 2021