February 13, 2016

What if? {Poem}

Flickr/Karoly Czifra

We don’t know who we really are until we embark on an endless journey to self-discovery.

We can never know who we are unless we dare to dive once in a while into the ocean that forms the whole self inside. We cannot be whole if we don’t dare to look, face, accept and embrace all the dark spots and shadows inside of our beings. If we refuse to do so, our shadows will follow and haunt us forever.

We cannot be free inside (and outside) if we refuse to look at our own darkness with the same compassionate and loving eyes as we look at our bright sides.

What if we sit and allow the dark sides of us to surface?

This is the theme of this poem; to ponder our inner realities that often don’t correspond with our outer realities. Whether they are fantasies or realities, we have to dig in deep under the sheets and skins of our nakedness where only the moon’s light can enter and shine through.

What if we stopped hiding under our skin and dared to meet in the mirror the reflections we have ignored or refused to look at for so long?

Perhaps we would start to love ourselves more uncounditionally? Perhaps. But only you can know.


What if?

What would happen,
if I sit with my demons and have a drink?
Talk with them about their pain,
how seducing they are when I feel their aroma, when they stink?

What would happen,
if I met my naked skin,
touched it to the heavenly pleasures,
not fearing those parts of me that want to be seen?

What would happen,
if I made love to myself and looked deeply at its fantasy?
What would happen if I allow myself to get nude in the mirror,
to the person in front of me?

What would happen if I have a talk with myself,
one of those filled with shadows and darkness,
one of those talks that strip my clothes into the light,
one of those talks where there is no Cinderella, no princess?

What would happen if I allow myself to expose those so called dirty spots?
Those dates in the calendar that know no time and no regret?
What would happen if I just let this skin dry its wounds once and for all?
What would happen if I miss my whole life and myself in the dark?


Author: Ilda Dashi

Editor: Caitlin Oriel

Image: Flickr/Karoly Czifra

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Ilda Dashi