The old story lingers,
finding its way through broken circles,
And every now and again forms into a painful experience of ‘not belonging’
Fitting into that same territory of not knowing
where my place is and what is needed of me,
An outsider looking in and feeling the pain
in her heart
It keeps her in a perpetual cycle of one foot in
and one foot out
Bringing these feet together
in one dance
one way of being
She cuts the story clean from her heart
Never to wander that lonely shore of indecision
Taking her place she stands stronger, clearer,
spine connected,
all the bones and muscles back
into their right position
The old story is laid to rest floating down stream away from its anchor
released to the elements,
Where did it come from?
The need to run away, away from the pain of humiliation
away from the sensations of what has been denied
Not wanting to bring that story, my story into the homes of others,
Into the home of what is important to me
Keeping it at bay behind closed doors
Yet to free myself the door will open
and stepping out into the container of humility and un-brokenness
the dancer songs her song for all to hear
and takes her place in the center of the drum beat.
Calling in her allies as the dagger cuts open the pain in her chest
and the deep hollow bone is filled with her own wisdom and knowing.
Taking a new and rightful place that comes with ease and understanding
of the path traveled and crawled upon, the broken knees and bloodied finger tips,
reaching out, reaching out.
To never walk that path again
But to stand strong in her own presence
And where she is meant to be!
Caroline Carey
Caroline Carey Writings, Prose & Poetry 