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May 22, 2014

Uncaging My Heart. ~ Amani Omejer {Poem}

hands hearts love

I fear the sorrow that lies

within me.

 

I fear the sorrow that dances

around me.

 

I listen to my heart

ache,

I listen to her

sing.

 

I distinguish

the difference

between

beauty

and suffering.

 

I distinguish

the difference

between

safety

and freedom.

 

I let my heart play out

in the way

she needs,

In the way

she’s asking,

in the way

she seems

so elegantly able

to do so.

 

But

I fear the beauty

I fear the suffering…

I fear it all.

 

And,

I feel it all.

 

I fear my heart

saying different things

to my mind

and to my body.

 

I fear my heart

telling me

different things

to what I want to hear.

 

I fear her

telling me

different things

to what I need to hear.

 

To what

I seemingly hear.

 

I fear losing the anonymity

of being able

to listen

to my head.

 

I fear the way

I’ll travel

if my heart

tells me

what is best.

 

I fear that,

most of all,

I’ll become distant

and unafraid—

I fear that

I’ll become

able

to bask freely

and

know what’s made.

 

You see,

to bask freely

is to go

against the grain.

 

The grain

of constraint.

 

It’s to go

against the notion

we need to suppress.

 

It’s to go

right where

it suits us best—

heart-centred

and central,

heart-centred

and open,

heart-centred

and living freely.

 

Heart-centred

and being authentic

and the whole

of me.

 

To go inside my heart

and listen,

is to leave

nothing unturned

and everything left.

It’s to give me

unconditional forgiveness

and unconditional

acceptance.

 

It’s to me let be

at my best

and my not-so.

 

It’s like turning

a stone

within my chest.

 

Opening the doors

and letting me

listen.

 

Listening to a rumble

that’s

always been there,

open inside

wounding

and masked under

fear.

 

To listen to her voice

and to let

her freedom

soar,

is to open up

a lioness

from a cage for

forever more.

 

Because my heart

and this lioness

are similar.

 

We are both feisty,

we are both raw.

We are both protective,

we are both vulnerable.

We are both authentic,

we are both it all.

 

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Editor: Travis May

Photo: D. Sharon Pruitt/flickr

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