Poem 183 – When the voices are

When the voices are

The voices are daggers today–
Does it matter–
Where they came from–
Who sent them–
How they sharpened–
No.
They. Are. Here–

And so, voices, I hear you–
I see your jagged edges–
I am to be punctured–
Perhaps even–
To be cut open–

Let’s see where your points settle–
Then I will write–

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Day one of the writing retreat went well. We wrote. We talked. We ate. But today, oh, today, the anxiety is fat. The voices are daggers (see above). And the work is with the soul not the page…but go to the page I shall to shake down what the heck is going on. This is why we ‘retreat’. The soul needs the words. And the words need the soul. There is always a need for realignment…and that can be messy, painful, scary…but the other side of this realignment is loaded with light and freedom. That’s where I’m aiming…no matter where the daggers land.