"Girl in a Box"

This is a true story poem....written real-time - "A Living Poem"

I have done considerable inner work throughout my life to heal from some pretty traumatic experiences. Poetry has always been my therapy and a means to move through my emotions in order to get to the other side where peace and wisdom live. Poetry saved me in a lot of ways.

As I was cleaning out a closet one day, I found this box. Not just any box, but 'THE BOX'. I hadn't opened it in decades. THE BOX that held all those words from the wounded child buried long ago. It kind of startled me as if a clashing of two worlds suddenly emerged from the shadows of my past. It didn't occur to me to open it. I didn't want to open it. I had no need to open it. Yet, after moving it to the middle of the floor, there it was, "Open me!" This went on for days until I was faced with the choice to return this wounded child to her resting place again or 'open' the box. "Open me!"

Surely I am strong enough now. Perhaps this will be healthy to test these deep waters. Yes, I am strong enough! Maybe it will be healthy to re-visit and tell her that everything will be okay.

I opened the box and began to read each tear-stained page and what happened next was so unexpected and beautiful....

With pen in hand......

Girl in a Box

Opening up the box
I see her lying there
Watermarked and faded

And I hesitate in the stillness
And the smells of yesterday

My heart drops like thunder
And my eyes feel the rain
Entering into this memory she left frozen in its pain

Am I ready to call her spirit forth
To walk that road of hollows?
Shall I wake her up again to walk in that sorrow?

In the Stillness, she calls to me from dusty sheets of time
Each one filled with the rhythmic dances of her mind

I follow her in blind-twilight...into the seasons of her heart
Tripping on the stones I carry through this heavy night

And she hands to me a flickering light
With images tumbling in time

Each one takes me deeper
Into the recesses of her mind

And then I find myself within the spring of her creation
A solitary island of timeless inspiration

Fragrant with the joys of new
And love's first clear delight

Motionless within the freedom
of her weightless mind

She stands with me in silence
And holds her hand in mine

And in her reflection, my eyes feel love's spring
Dancing from the rhythm of her heart's paper wings

And I smile with her as we walk a bit further
Dropping stones along the way

Wondering where she is taking me
As I turn another page.................................