Tuesday, 22 September 2015

Back

Go back.
Not to stay there.
But to find, what you left behind.
What remained undone, and follows now at your heels,
waiting your return.
What goodbyes were not said, or griefs unexpressed;
on those back steps, or the long ago, hospital bed.
What was left?

What has you now,
going round in circles?
Looking, longing, looking, longing,
for you know not what.
And what bandage have you applied,
to distance yourself from past regret?
What mask do you hold so tight, in the fear it will slip?
What wounds, with a knock, tend to split?

Go back.
The words that were never said.
The hopes dashed, and expectations unmet.
Be brave enough to acknowledge the needs,
that still remain.
From what you couldn’t help;
or could have helped maybe,
but believe yourself
to have failed.

Write.
Write away the pain.
Find a friend and speak of the ache.
Speak until the words finally dissipate.
Speak to those who faces are long gone.
For their presence lingers, till you do;
in every pattern you repeat,
and stronghold which has you bound.

I’m going back.
Not to stay there.
But to re-track my journey up to now.
Until its clear where it broke,
and cracked.
And where I made the replacement;
thinking I had mended
the ache of loss.


Oh how wrong I was.
I’m coming back.

Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry

September 2015



"....turn back and live"
Ezekiel 18:32
Whangamata, Coromandel, New Zealand

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