Reflections of
There are times the mirror held up reveals things that need closer attention, some inspection, probably an investigation but hopefully not a diagnosis.
Those are things that can be seen, deeper in the person is a bigger mirror that processes the elements of personality that may never been exposed through actions or words but are churned in the industrial workhouse of the thoughts prompted by circumstances, reading, hearing or feeling.
That nuclear core where boldness takes its source of courage and niggling fears are baying for that opening to overwhelm you in a sudden pall of despair.
The place where you comfort yourself continually that things would be right even when there is no clear conviction of evidence to support that hope and aspiration.
Reaching for
You reach out as if you were in a ditch in the hope that someone saw you fall in and is there at your point of need; that wish that if it were in the wilderness your cries for help have rung out to those who can help and help you well.
Tunnels unlit loom with no perception of the length of that journey before the bright light of the day raises expectations that soon the warmth of the sun would be the refreshing end to an ordeal that has not scarred you for the worse.
Cocooned in your own world it is almost impossible to see where others need your hand, you look for strength that assures you that what you see in the mirror is you, it is fine, it is good and there is nothing to fear as you grasp that hand, exit that tunnel and find succour well beyond your buffeted expectations.
Life is such a long story; would we ever find the time to tell it in peace?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are accepted if in context are polite and hopefully without expletives and should show a name, anonymous, would not do. Thanks.