kyndallrae

creating me [using words]

Slow and Unsteady

Slow as molasses
this reconstruction
of the inner life.
Spurts of speed and joy
arrive as unexpected graces,
then leave as quickly
as they came.
I am lonely when they go.
If ever I were to shut down
and die a mourner’s death
twould be now–
I’ve grown thin enough
to be swallowed
by this slothful depression,

but muscles are building
back unseen, I feed
them vitamins and two
tablespoons of angry fire
each morning or as
needed. I name what
I need and sometimes
I am heard. Not always,
but, then, I never
used to ask at all.

Those who give advice
without bothering to listen
are like bricks falling
on the head of the wounded,
adding weight
to the load too
heavy to lift alone.

To ask a question
is to offer a hand.
To read and reread with understanding
is to kiss a wound.
To say, “I hear you,”
is to be friend.
To peer into the depths
and ponder their meaning
is to stand with.
To refuse to run away
from that which baffles
is to be courage on behalf of another.
To reject with fervor
any abuse of a human soul
is to be a hero to one.
To encourage the renegade
to keep going
is to aid and abet
a most necessary revolution.

Slow as molasses
this reconstruction
of how we relate to one another.
Listeners and champions
arrive as unexpected graces,
sometimes leave as quickly
as they came.
I am lonely when they go.
If ever I were to shut down
and die a loner’s death,
it will not be now,
when I’ve only just begun
to be heard.

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4 thoughts on “Slow and Unsteady

  1. Linda Cross on said:

    :-))

    Linda Cross 214.728.6457 Sent from my iPhone

  2. Such a strong voice. So glad you’re building those muscles.

  3. brittany on said:

    Just lovely. I’m resonating with this this morning. The first paragraph especially hits home. I swear if i ever start an intentional community (read: commune) you’ll be my first phone call :)

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