My heart's wound is an old old story
It chatters in the background day and night
The world is dangerous, it warns
and you are weak and inadequate
You must take care, you must contract
fold inward on yourself like a turtle
protecting its tender neck
Don't make a fuss, stay quiet and still
hide here in this corner and cautiously observe

I learned quite young my path to value
by being good and productive
It works with grownups
not so much with classmates
so I grew up lonely
hiding shame and self-doubt
locked inside my own armor
rejecting rejection by rejecting others

Pleasing teachers, then my bosses
I made myself useful
and willingly absorbed more work
more work, more more more
till I wobbled and spiraled like a slowing top
and finally skidded to a stop
and there I lay on my side
for what seemed a long time
exhausted, used up, broken

I knew then what I know now
that I can never go back 
to that old way of being
That was my grave
I must rise again
in newness of life
I must let go of my old defenses
shrug off my old, tough shell
and step forward in the naked tenderness
of brand new skin

I long for love and courage
to be brave enough to take daring plunges
to live fully into the luminous numinous soul
I have caught glimpses of lately
to hear my own voice raised in its own true song
to embrace everything
and everyone in my path
to belong

to fall madly in love with that shy shy soul
to love and nurture and honor her
so that within the safety of my courage
my heart will finally bloom



by Celeste Boudreaux, August 2022