...poet heal thyself...
The outer wounds, we oft must share
as people seem to stop and stare;
but soul bound cuts remain unseen,
except through tears' crystal sheen.
We talk about the broken arm,
because it will not bring us harm;
not speaking of the shattered soul,
except when we are all alone.
Perhaps it is the poet's plight
to bring the soul into the light;
and bare the pain for all to see
and then – Synchronicity!
What is yours is also mine,
steep stairs each of us must climb;
paths diverse and yet the same,
analogous heartaches, different names.
Poets, let healing waters flow
to open up and heal the soul;
the wounds of life and living
soothed by self forgiving.
Copyright © September 27, 2009 by Karen M. Crump
Review/Comments by Dan Sturn
I like how the Poem starts out describing two types of pain: external and internal. Physical and emotional. Material and spiritual. Then you lead us to realize that the Poet's job is to shed light upon the darkness of emotional pain. And you invoke Synchronicity . . . . the notion that there is a pattern that connects all patterns that connect . . . . almost as if there is a Muse or a Higher Power or a God that comes through the Poet in an act of Healing.
I love the third stanza (What is yours is also mine). It seems this Poem recognizes that equanimity, or at least the recognition of such, has in itself healing power. Of course I love your metaphor: Poetry = Healing Water. And then finally you really draw a great conclusion: self-forgiveness is the basis of all healing.
© Copyright 2009 Karen M. Crump (UN: armorbearer at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
Karen M. Crump has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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