Much like its composer, the book is small, but mighty!
I was beyond elated when the book arrived on my doorstep. I quickly freed it from its brown outer packaging and began to devour its contents. I felt quite confident as I ingested poem after poem that I would finish it in a day. I was so looking forward to consuming the wisdom, the message, the heart within its noble frame.
I found it altogether:
Refreshing! Eye opening! Surreal! Daunting!
It was strumming my pain…
It was killing me softly…
It was lighting a fire within me that a part of me wasn’t ready to be lit. It was removing the scales from my eyes revealing a full-length mirror I was not yet ready to gaze into.
Afraid to reclaim my vision, I allowed the book to get lost in a pile just out of reach. Occasionally I would get a glimpse of the cover, but I continued to delay its retrieval.
I was too afraid to face the truth that all along I had the power... that all along I was the power.
I wasn’t ready.
I averted my eyes.
I shielded them.
Cognitive dissonance was my cloak.
Procrastination was my dagger.
But today. Today was the day that I threw off and out the fables of my past. Today was the day I beckoned the truth, that I wore it as a garment. Today, I finished the book. And then I read it again.
And as I sit here, by myself, but never alone, I am a soul healed… a soul that is bare, naked, powerful, and beautiful!
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