Denial

Along the cobblestone path I walked

Somewhere along the way

I lost myself.

It hardly mattered,

I climbed a tree or two,

And there were wildflowers growing everywhere,

In the springtime the sun would glance at me

From behind the cirrus clouds

Perhaps only to greet me

Upon this path I walked every morning

I walked alone, and in the summertime,

I became a patron saint.

Enamored of the deer, I was, and

I adored the blue jays,

I sang with the mockingbirds.

I danced with the evergreens that

Swayed in the cool autumn breeze,

In my solitude

I would walk along this path in the wintertime,

Through the falling snow I could envision

Miles ahead of me

Branches and branches of barren trees encased in ice,

I would wonder if this is what heaven others spoke of-

Too spectacular to be deemed reality-

I whispered back to the voices that spoke to me

Only I could hear.

Somewhere along the way I had lost myself.

It hardly mattered

I was a child of the wilderness

The deer, the evergreens and the barren maple trees

And the voices inside my head,

Together, we became a family.

It is late summer, and

The air is sultry.

The woods are a place that I find peace and harmony

I hear the locusts screaming,

The chanting of the crickets, and the song of the nightingale, as the

Evening would set in.

I have been called a wounded spirit, a lost soul.

I hear voices whispering above the locusts’ screaming,

I feel my tears falling with the rain which

Has just begun to fall from the approaching storm.

A storm is raging inside of me.

Somewhere along the way

I lost myself.

It hardly matters though, as

Wildflowers are growing everywhere,

Canadian wild geese are flying home in V formation.

I have fallen in love with the splendor of the woodlands.

I talk back to the voices that speak to me gently and unobtrusively.

Somewhere along the way,

Somebody found me and snatched me from my home space,

Took me away to a cinderblock building, and closed the door behind.

Now I find myself walking up and down a long hall-

The floors are tiled, and the walls are white and endless,

Everything is antiseptic- clean, and

Strange people, dazed and sleepy-eyed are pacing up and down the halls,

Somewhere along the way,

I became lost, and then found.

I miss the evergreens, the sun and the song of the whippoorwills, and even the

Screaming of the locusts.

But the voices inside my head and I -

We are still a family_