The Valley of Division
|Taken in the Cradle of Mankind, Gauteng, South Africa|
I’m tired of mustering up the courage
to be myself
its proved to be
an elusive beast
I’m not sure
it even exists
I thought there were treasures
in the cave of my soul
But every time I stooped to pick one up
My soul facing its earthly life looks out
through vitreous eyes
layers of shoulds and oughts and musts have occluded my moon
Seventy seven times have I skinned myself
looking for me
Each skinning leaves me raw and stinging
Every time I look into the mirrors of eyes I see a different me
so which one am I?
There is one man who…
one man whom I can call a liberator…
when I look into his eyes and he into mine
I see nothing
no edges to myself
can’t I stay
in that vision?
What is it that draws me back
from staying there in the light?
I return to
the valley of division.
Tenderness wells up and tells me
Be – not your self –