the way of pain

10 12 2010

the way of pain

 

to accept this path is

dangerous

 

the way it leaves you

fractured

scattered

egoless

and as vulnerable as shelled and broken pale baby birds,

bit by bit coercing unspoken or unidentified truths that

slip out through the cracks

the breaks

at times so frightening they steel and steal your breath

 

to accept this journey stipulates and extracts truth,

what was, is, and will be

your truth—

sometimes with methods as brutally pointed as an interrogator

of whom you see nothing but silhouette and

of whom you hear nothing but unremitting questioning,

but sometimes

also

with methods as inviting as great, wide, and supple moments

between true friends—

which then gradually softens the jagged edges and works with tenderness

at piecing them

piecing you

together in the cushioned nest of acuity

 

until

 

finally

the experience of pain, that great shaman,

the same truth

that tempers you pang by agonizing pang

and aches deeper than a dehydrated tongue in the sweltering summer Sahara

and gapes around inside until you feel

the other side of the universe siphoned into your belly,

somehow

stunningly

becomes an experience of love

deliberately conjuring up an authenticity—

your very own strong, expansive, ample, beautiful wings—

and

(like the intelligence of blood that both leaks and stops itself from leaking)

is the very thing that fuses and welds and melds you together again

 

cohesion is its final relinquishment

a gift of you

to you

 

to accept the way of pain—the eminent truth disperser and dispenser—is

dangerous

but so it is to fly

 

—Kiri Manookin, December 2010

 

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One response

15 12 2010
Anonymous

Amazing, Kiri. You couldn’t have described that path any more perfectly.

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