Sunday, April 26, 2009

No man's land...

There is the me I used to be...
There is the me I will become...
And in between is "no man's land"...

A place of confusion
Blurred edges
Discovering and seeing
Crying and weeping
Learning and healing
Growing and pruning

A place of awakening
Opening your eyes
Seeing not avoiding
Facing not running
Strengthening of self
Knowing of self

It is WORK I have been putting off for a while now...
There was never time, or so I thought, and so I said...
There was life to be tended to...
Things got in the way, I let them- get in the way...

Truth be told- I was afraid.

Of what I would find,
Of what lay ahead,
Just past the bend,


Of what I would be...
When I was no longer the me...
I used to be...
And yet,
Not quite the me...
I am to be...


Of the
In Between
The "not knowingness"
Who I am
What I am
Where I am

Of "no man's land"...

I am faded
I am hazy
A little smudged
A little lost
A little scared

Because I realize
I spent a life
Some 25 years
Or so...
Not "feeling"
Because I had to
What I felt
I had to intellectualize
So that I would not hurt
Because the "feeling"
Was so hard...
I dichotomized
The self
And now
I must start over
How to feel...

And there is an ache
That is hard to define
To describe in words
In FEELING words
But let me try...


Sad- for a lifetime-
Hurt- for all the losses and aches
Despondent- for what seems like a waste of past time
Angry- at what seems unfair
Dysphoric-because of all the "bearing in silence"
Embarrassed- because of who may see me struggling and know...
Ashamed- because i feel damaged in a way because i am not "perfect" can never be...
Irritated- because people tell me "who I am" they don't know...
Expunged- because i don't know anymore
Helpless- at times because i am alone
Irked- because i am in a rush to "fix it"
Tired- because i just want a break... to sit... to feel
Needy- because i wish someone would hold me close, hold me tight and not let go...
Fearful- because people do leave, have always left- me...
Proud- and i act like it doesn't hurt- i don't care... but... it does and i do...
Humble- because i know i am blessed by HIM
Hopeful- because despite it all i am doing the "work" at last
Eager- to see the new me


This happens slow
And I know
I am impatient...


I must be
With being ME
Right NOW
Right HERE

For a while... at least

"Hello, My name is Shahnaz...
I used to know who I used to be...
I don't really- not anymore
But I'd really like it if you stayed
I cannot make you- not I
But it feels good to be around
People and so...
I say
Please stay...
I will find myself
In the end
It's no man's land
And while I can walk alone
It FEELS good
To have somewhere I can sit awhile
In silence
And be held close
Who I fear may leave...
If I am not "Perfectly put together and smiling..."
While I take a breath and BE
Just simply
With being here
With being ME
In no man's land..."


Saturday, April 25, 2009

Beginnings and endings...

Never really liked endings
The last sip of tea...
All marked the loss
Of having and enjoying

Middles get mundane
Sometimes comfortably blissful
Oftentimes quiet and dull
They're there
Just so
No excitement
You know...
Just there

With the rush
Of beginnings
Of novelty

So much so
That I feel
I have become
A junkie
To newness

How then
Does one
The dysfunctionality

Find balance
The rush and mundane
And downfall... demise
Build tolerance and
In this dreary existence
Called "normal"

What hope is there
For a thrill junkie
What solace
Is found
In "normal" existence
When the heart craves
Endless excitement...

No hope
No hope
For the thrill junkie.

three words...

(After the rain... Oil on canvas- 4/25/09)

"give me three words and i'll whip up something with them..."
"i love you..."

Iridescent your smile

Lucid and sparkling
Overwhelms, takes my breath away
Vibrant... intoxicating...
Every heartbeat I dedicate to

You! my LOVE... i
Offer YOU my heart... yours
Undeniably yours always...


Friday, April 24, 2009

blurred edges...

whither went the feeling
whither went the rain
cleansing deep
and healing
old nostalgic

little angel weeping
sat amid her pain
drifts to sleep
and dreaming
lost exotic

float amid the clouds
the fog of human meaning

sink deep in the abyss
of blurry self revealing


to lofty trails a beckoning

i wander off alone
in endless night engulfing

to seek myself
and find
some sense
in endless

Monday, April 20, 2009

...whatever lola wants...

A friend had recommended I watch this French film- Priceless.

I rented that among several others that I had missed because of life getting in the way. So this past weekend I went and rented, in addition to Priceless, the following treasures:

The Red Violin
The pursuit of happiness

I watched Priceless first on Saturday afternoon, after taking the NCE- my mammoth counseling certification exam (pray for me to pass) (the testing conditions were awful- noise like there is no tomorrow...), and then watched Once.

Both were touching. Spoke of love... the unconditional kind, love that is true, priceless and does not seek to possess- but merely to cherish and enjoy.

I was reminded again, of what love should be like. I was reminded again of what love should feel like. Such an immense emotion those four little letter encompass


I woke up late Sunday afternoon and watched The Red Violin. I felt reborn after. It was a beautiful movie. Again about love...

What does love mean?
What does love mean to you?

I went to visit a friend last night. One whom I haven't enjoyed in a long long time. We sat and laughed. We talked like old times. I met his brother. We laughed some more. I danced all night (he cannot dance to save his life!). I felt happy. I felt free- like I have not felt in a long, long time. We listened to music. I stole 7 more of his CDs... he has threatened to start a lending list just because of me. He collects this beautiful music from all over the world and then along comes Polly (yours truly!) and lays her paws on what she wants and off she goes...

"whatever Lola wants... Lola gets..."

I danced to my hearts content. And as I drove home in the wee hours of the night, I thought to myself,

"self" says I...
"life is good! it has its ups. it has its downs. but in the end... life is good!"

A little bittersweet.
A little heartbreak.
A little heartache.
A little scary.
A little kind.
A little trying.
A little loss.
A little gain.

Yet in the end...


And yes, I have wings to fly again...

Saturday, April 18, 2009

the best painting...

... i have your best painting...

So one of my dearest friends tells me today... And what is more, the said piece is the first one that I painted since moving to the U.S. It was painted in 2006. And it takes a place of honor on his bedroom wall among many beautiful pieces of art. He tells me that it is the most beautiful art in the place. I secretly smile, flattered by his praise. What is more- the painting was never completed. I started it. The background is done so while it appears complete to an observer, I know it isn't. I had intended to add more to it, but the sunset beckoned and so I climbed to his rooftop to see the sun set and thus the art was left untended... unfinished, like a chapter in my life...unfinished like Gypsy Kings, memorable and yet, unfinished...

He had it framed and states that one day he may add something to it... I shall wait and see. Meanwhile, I have insisted that he re-establish his studio because frankly I miss it! Once done, I intend to display all my pieces there- yeah I think of it as "my studio". In addition to adopting people I have also started to adopt places and he laughed at me today because he stated it was a most feline quality quite befitting me!

To Gypsy Kings and memories
To laughter- fun and bittersweet
To art, to color
To he and I
Friends that last a lifetime

Sunday, April 12, 2009


Manan asked me a question today...
For those who do not know of Manan-
He is someone who knows me.
How he knows I do not know.
He is someone who understands me.
How he does I do not know.
He is someone who guesses at my truth.
How he does that I do not know.

I don't question it.
I accept it.
For what it is.

He is a regular reader of the blog and has a sense of what my writing is like- so much so that if I were to write somewhere else, I think he would be able to tell if the words were mine :)


So Manan asked me today, if I could go back in time to my 17 year old self what I would say to her. I pondered over that one for a moment... and concluded that I would say nothing. In fact I would probably pass her by and not even smile. Because if I did, if I made even one small change, I might alter the course of my own history, "the butterfly effect" and then I would not be where I am today. I would not change one thing about my past or where I am today. If I spoke to that 17 year old, I would deprive her of LIFE. I would deprive her of her experience of it. Deprive her of this most beautiful of all gifts- LIFE...

Experiencing it
Feeling it
Living it

He said that is what he guessed at, but wanted to be sure if I still felt the same way. Given the stark honesty of my last post (yes I deleted it!) (but I guess a reader here or there caught it!!! :S)Given the state I was in when I wrote that, he wondered if I still felt the same? If, perhaps, there was some regret.... But there is none. It is what it is. And life is still a wonderful thing. Incidentally Manan thinks he is the same way.

Manan asked what makes us different? People like He and I.... And I said it is the fact that we FEEL. More than half the human race does not feel. They refuse to. They mask their pain, so they never FEEL pain. They hide behind the fear of pain so they do not love and then they don't FEEL love. They lie to themselves when they are faced with envy, jealousy, anger, lust- they deny it....they hide from it so they never FEEL any of it, merely a shadow of it. Like Plato's analogy of the cave... they are content with watching the shadows on the wall and believing it to be true reality.

I was reminded of IQ today. He would understand what I mean. Incidentally I really miss IQ. I have not seen or spoken to him in a long, long time. A meeting is in order. A meeting of the intellect and minds that resonate on the same wavelength and can muse over the mysteries of existence.

So Hallelujah always shakes me-

It is sheer poetry and each lyric speaks volumes
Coded over and over
To be interpreted
In a zillion different ways

...I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the lord...

Who knows what little action, what little acceptance, what humble thank you reaches the heavens, who knows what makes those beloved by God, the beloved of God..who knows...why he always stands by some? He always stands by me- I know this. I live this everyday of my life. That is why HE is MY GOD.

...but you don't really care for music do ya...

And shall you deny, favors, blessing, love, HIM and all that HE gives. Shall you throw away all that is given to you? The love, the challenges, the blessing? So Manan- this is why I would not change one thing, not one thing- There has never been one grief, one trial one tribulation has ever come my way that HE did not give me strength and courage and grace to face. goes like this, the 4th the 5th the minor fall and the major lift...

technically referring to the chords and scales, "the minor fall and the major lift" speak to my poet's mind as the small challenges (the minor fall) that turn one into gold (the major lift), solid gold (the strength and courage, experience and wisdom that result). To turn to gold the ore must first face the furnace... Burn and melt and loose form and shape and then be reborn, impurities cleansed.

...your faith was strong but you needed proof...

How many times do we test those we love? How many times are we tested by those we love... how many times do they push us- push us that one small atoms weight too far... until all is lost, and they don't see what they break. And how many times does HE test us to bring us back to HIM...And how many time do we test HIM in our grief and pain and deny HIS KNOWLEDGE...

...and from your lips she drew the hallelujah...

And how many times do we give the utmost love, the divine love to a human? I believe that my God is a jealous God... He gives me a capacity to love. But I only know how to love COMPLETELY. And that completeness of love is the right only of HIM. So time and again I am brought to my knees and shown the might of the Lord. From my broken hearted lips is drawn a hallelujah. Rumi once said from the eyes of broken hearted lovers is God seen... is not a victory march, it's a cold and a broken hallelujah...

So to those arrogant lovers who think they know HOW to love. Love is not about winning. Being the one in power, control, in the right. Love is not about being the one to leave. It is about surrender... about surrender of the most dignified and helpless kind. Where ego and pride are checked at the door. Where your being is broken to bits to create the space that is needed so that your love can expand and encompass and encase all of you... it's a broken hallelujah... it's a cold hallelujah because when you are there, you are seldom there with your love... you are there alone because it is rare to find one who can love that way too....


*Addendum saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you...

When captivated by love, what will you not do? The mightiest are brought down to their knees by the whispered gentleness of a lovers beguile. We know that down that path can lie nothing but a destruction of the self and yet, powerless, we are willing to give it all, lose it all.... all for the fleeting brief moments in the lovers arms, moments that are worth eternities...

...and she tied you to her kitchen chair, and she broke your throne and she cut your hair and from your lips...

Betrayed by love! Robbed by the very being for whom you would have given it all away-willingly, happily, had they but asked it of you... if only they knew... and therein lies the irony- they did not ask it, they did not know it, they did not believe: in you, in love, they did not even LOVE
And so you lost it all, gave it all, and all for nothing...
And you would do so again, over and over, in a heartbeat because that is what it means to truly love, whether the love is reciprocated is of no consequence- the greatest love is unconditional and with no condition comes the absolute negation and decimation of the self... and that is how from the lips is heard the hallelujah! The surprise that indeed, we also can love like that, yet we never knew it... hallelujah! we see our own demise at the hands of our love who holds our broken heart and yet we still love... hallelujah...

Friday, April 10, 2009


LOVE (Bubba's poem- written today!)

Is something you can't buy...
If you buy love-
It is nothing to you.
Is priceless...
If you refuse to sell it
Is more than the world to you.
Is everything...

Everything you need
Everything you need to survive



BUBB!!!---able... are so...

h-u-g able
l-o-v-e able
f-u-n able
k-i-n-d able

(bubba's words to describe me today...)


"if you were not my mommy i would never know how much love you are!"
"really bubba...why?"
"because you show it all to me"
"hmmm....that is why God put us together"
"because we love a lot!"
"we do!"
"we do..."

(while cuddling her after she got home today after a week with her dad!)
(so she is holding me close and gazing into my eyes, when i ask...)

"what are you looking at?"
"and what do you see?"
"how much?"
"more than anything else..."

(and we continue to cuddle)

"now what are you looking at?"
"still you..."
"and what do you see?"
"still love"
"how much?"
"still more than anything..."

(and a little chat about U2 that is playing- the live concert in Milan on youtube on my laptop- when... "still haven't found..." comes on and she says...)

"it doesn't sound like it usually does"
"it's a live version- from a concert..."
"so now what are you looking at?"
"you again"
"and what do you see?"
"two eyes, two eyebrows, one nose, lips, hair, a hairband, a mole... and..."
"and love..."
"how much love?"
"more than the last two times!!"
" i love you bubba jee!"
"i love you!"

(so i get up to blog and "mysterious ways" comes on- she grabs a balloon on a wand and starts to jam.... playing it like a guitar... headbanging and prancing about... having a ball of a time.... and she looks awesome, full of life and energy... my beautiful one... she drops on one knee and slides across the i chuckle to myself...and she says...)

"i am a rock star! it's what rock stars do..."

(i watch her mesmerized...and she says...)

"now it's real time!"
"real time?"
"yeah- because it is a guitar solo!!"
(i look on entranced- at her beautiful playing, when she says...)
"and now the ending!!" (and she pulls the balloon off the wand!"
"would that be you smashing your guitar on stage?"
"oh yeah!!"

(she is awesome- my little slice of heaven on earth!)

...all the promises we break, from the cradle to the grave...

Timber Wolf

Through the wilderness she ran
In unfamiliar terrain

All around were sounds

She stumbled
Losing ground
And felt herself go down
And at that moment
It appeared
A timber wolf
And stood

At a distance
It watched a while
She stood up
And started to walk
It walked alongside
It kept its distance
She walked past things
That would seek to overcome her
And all the while
It stood guard over her
And walked alongside

Until she found her way again
Until her feet
Were on the path again...

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Could it be? Like This...

Like Yin
Like Yang

Imagine a circle, empty and devoid of everything.
Within it insert a thing, a being, a yin, OR a yang...
It will remain incomplete, full yes, because it would have something, a yin thing or a yang thing but completion would not be had.
Both a yin AND a yang were present.
Opposing qualities- yes...
Balancing qualities.

Existing alone
They survive
They function- yes...
They do not thrive.
To thrive
They must be
Simultaneously Present
In time.
In space.
In the same space.
In the same circle.

The yin and yang transform.
They transform each other.
They mold, and flex and blend into each other.
Each pushing
A little...
Each giving
A little...
Until a dynamic equilibrium is attained.

Because they arise together.
Are always together.
Side by side.
Without one the other would cease to be.
Yet they are not
One better than the other.
They need the other.
Without the other
There would be emptiness.

Now imagine yourself.
Your flaws.
Your weaknesses.
And imagine another...
Whose strengths are what your flaws are
Whose quality is what your weakness is.
And vice versa.
You epitomize what they lack.
They epitomize what you fall short at.
Alone you are fabulous- at some things...
And they are fabulous- at some things...
But together
You are phenomenal- at
ALL things

Now take Adam
From him came Eve
From his rib came his Eve

If souls are made in heaven
And soul mates too
Could it not be
That each soul
Gave up a rib
So his soul mate could BE???
And if so
For each man out there
There is a woman
Who was made
FOR him
HIS rib....
(The rib concept is copyrighted to a friend of mine- I.)
(Speaking of profundity and spirituality... this one packs a double whammy)

Monday, April 6, 2009


My genre of choice is fantasy fiction.
A die hard fan of Tolkien and C.S Lewis, my next favorite is Terry Brooks.
My favorite series- His Shannara books

Interestingly, when I read- I read more than what is written. Words take on meaning and symbols and life... beyond what is penned, beyond that intended, beyond what was the author's intent. I make the words mine. I make the meaning mine. I make the book mine...

Which is why, after I have read a book I cannot part with it. It belongs to me. I am attached, connected, linked to it. Pieces of me are embedded within. Pieces of it I carry with me. Friends who know me well- know this of me. I never return a book loaned to me. I don't do libraries. They just would not work... I have a hard time giving away books. Because I seldom find people worthy enough to pass along the words to. I seldom find someone who can appreciate, the message, the wisdom, the beauty within... People some days just don't see the beauty, the depth, the energy, the magic- the sheer magic of words.




I have always been mesmerized by them. Ever since I first became acquainted with words, they have affected me. They have touched, tormented, teased. They have lingered like a fragrance or a repulsive stench. They have echoed over and over, ceaselessly... unending in the recesses of my brain.

They take on meaning...

And so did those penned by Terry Brooks
In Elfstones of Shannara- His second book in the Shannara series

"In ages past the great elves of old
Captured all the demons
And shut them out
Locked them behind
A wall of
And layered with magic
A tree was created
The Ellcrys
So long as it lived
Forbidding was strong...
Demons in check
Remained trapped forever
But The Ellcrys could weaken...
And when that happened
The demons break loose
And chaos prevails
The Dagda Mor- mightiest of all
The Reaper- a killer
The Changeling- shapeshifter taking on the guise of those trusted and known
They rampaged
And goodness
A journey is made
To the Bloodfire of existence
A journey of
Strength and goodness
Sacrifice and love
Help and wisdom
And TRUTH shall
The raging demons
And restore
The Ellcrys
The balance
The peace and harmony
A rebirth occurs
The forbidding restored
The demons are conquered
And caged again
Behind the walls of
At least- for a while..."

How similar is life
How honest the analogy
How real the demons
How difficult the battle
How true the sacrifice
How expected the journey
How beautiful the Ellcrys
How magical the parallel

The words
The words
The meanings within
The truth
The wisdom
The beauty
The lesson

Did the author know what he penned
Did he know the magic within
Did he see the demons himself

How could he not
How can WE not


We all have demons
We all wage battle

I did mine
A little while ago
The forbidding
It crumbled
I saw a glimpse of the weakening
In a labyrinth one day
The Ellcrys was seen
And the truth began
Slowly to appear...
The reaper took a swipe
The Changelings emerged
The Dagda Mor pushed...
The forbidding came down
A battle ensued
I waged
I raged
I journeyed a little
To the Bloodfire
The Ellcrys must now be restored
A sacrifice is made
What was...
Must cease to be
What is...
Begins to emerge
Until then
There is the journey
Into No-Man's land
But with companions
Strong and true
"Wil Ohmsford by Amberle Elessedil's side"
The rebirth will occur
The Ellcrys shall be restored
The demons shall be caged again
And peace
Once again will reign

Sunday, April 5, 2009

The meaninglessness of a diluted life...

Which would you choose

One moment of pure life---
A lifetime of mundane?

When trapped in a world of order amid chaos,
When stuck in the barriers of time and propriety,
When manipulated into doing and accepting that which you did not choose,
By those that you love...
When caught in the grip of time and fate, and it is what it is...
When cornered by things and situations out of your control
When playing out a script not penned by you
When living the layout of the gods...

When butterfly effects can alter universal truths...
When the rest of living is mundane and bland... yet,
Unplanned encounters become your unfiltered truth
When you search in vain for that which you seek
And find it only in snippets here and there
In a piece of artwork in a gallery
In a conversation brief and sweet
Under a tree in a moment of respite
In the words read in a book
Or penned by someone
In a wanting
A needing
A craving
A desire that someone expressed
"I imagined you saying those words to me.... "

When you are caught up in someones presence
Though they be miles away
When captivated by their voice
Their words
Their smell
And real

When that reality appears more real
Than reality itself

When you have experienced both extremes
When you are seasoned at recognizing
Pure life
Life diluted

When you have faced the giddy highs
And devastating lows
That come from purity
And truth unfiltered
When you have survived the
Agony and the ecstasy
When you become willing
To pay the price
The hefty price
Of purity
When you have had a taste
Of that ultimate elixir
And find yourself
Of ever enjoying
When any price
Is a just price

And only then can you answer...

Which would you choose-
One moment of pure life
Or a lifetime of mundane?

Saturday, April 4, 2009

Love and loss...

Life is a complex phenomenon.

Invest too much, risk too much and you can stand to lose it all...
Keep up your guards, play is safe and you never really live at all...

What is one to do?

Take LOVE for example.

We cannot help it.
We cannot control it.
We do not choose who we fall in love with.
We cannot help loving those we love...
We cannot make them love us back...
We cannot even "unlove" them...

We can simply feel...

And to those lucky ones who find a love that is reciprocated- hold on to it tight
Embrace you "salt" in life. Embrace your peace in life. Embrace your joy in life.

And to those not so lucky- who are reeling from the wreckage of broken hearts- be kind to yourselves and don't lose hope... Keep the flame kindled and lit. Don't build walls. Let it find you... and it will... Always believe and it will... Remember you cannot control others- but you can control yourself. Always have love within you.... and there will always be love in your life.

And to those "IDIOTS"-


I- I
D- do
I- ishq
O- only
T- tum
S- say

To those I say-
Wake up and see the light.
Wake up and see the beauty.
Wake up and see the blessing....
That you have-

A love so beautiful it gives you wings to fly.
A love so cruel it brings you down to your knees and breaks you up.
A love so profound it has a category all its own.
A love so apart there are no rules to rely on.
A love so pure
So real
So honest
So passionate
So helpless
So strong
So crippling
So strengthening
So true

Live it...
Simply live that love
For it is truly a gift!
From HIM....

This one is for three friends- very near and dear...
Hey you- enjoy your "salt"!
Hey you- Hold on to yourself, for this will hurt like hell but I am here to lend a hand... others are here to help you up... we will be here, we'll see you through... hold on tight... we've got you!
And YOU! Hey you- for you there is simply....

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Tears... yet again!

Stayed up all night and cried over you
Yet again
Was shut out in the cold
Yet again
Loved alone and lost alone
Yet again
And then came the goodbye
That left me stunned
Yet again
And so I ask you babe
This time I need to know
Is it yay or nay
'Cos hun I need to know
Loving- it ain't a game
And my heart it ain't a toy
While you were off asleep
In torment awake lay I
But It's gone on too long
And about time we make it clear
Since it's you that walks off alone
Babe it's you that needs to show
If you're here to stay this time
Then darling make it clear...
I need a word from you my dear
So baby make it clear!


I call him MY GOD!

Because HE is mine.
HE is personal to me.
HE knows me.

Who dares to come between THEE and I my LORD?
Who dares to point a finger?
Who has courage enough?
Let him come forth...

For I am who I am
And only YOU know what is in my heart
And only to YOU shall I bow
If this head is to drop an inch
It shall be in YOUR grace
And never in shame
Always in pride
Always in joy
Always humility
Always in faith...

What can man give
YOU are divine
What has man to offer
YOU are my savior


Wednesday, April 1, 2009


What moves your soul?
What is your passion?
Flamenco- one of my favorites...


If a look could speak
would you hear the words

If a heart could sing
would you know the song

If a color had a smell
would you know the fragrance

If a place had a soul
would you be the soul mate

If a voice went unheard
would you speak what was said

If darkness was all over
would you be the light

If time was meaningless
would you wait for a moment

If space was empty
would you fill it up

If thought was no more
would you exist in me

If feeling ceased to be
would you still know

If forever really happened
would you ever be

If there was a yesterday
would you remember

If there was a today
would you be here

If tomorrow ever came
would there be now

The listening stone...

When I was a little girl I once read a story by that title.... It was the most poignant story I had ever read up until that time. I was 8 then, I think, and the story lingered with me through the years and lingers with me still- though seasons pass and wrinkles set in, the tale lives on.

Over the ages the story has become mine- or have I become the story?... it's hard to tell.

It went something like this...

There once was a princess who loved a lot. She found her love and lost her love. Her love, he found another and she was made to witness that and deal with that. Along the way were several hurts and injustice. Life was hard. Alone she struggled through storm and hail. Quiet she suffered the sword and pain. Her love abandoned her, shut her out and so she sat and told her tale one stormy night to the listening stone... The stone of power, of bearing and patience... The stone of hearing, tolerating and stillness... the listening stone- that could hear it all, absorb it all, and hold it all... The only problem was, when the princess talked and when she told, and told it all... even the stone, that noble stone, that mighty stone, that listening stone... could bear no more. When she poured out her pain that bearing stone could bear no more. It ripped asunder, fell apart, broke in pieces, could not stand- the agony, the unbearable agony that this little princess carried around in her heart...

There are days when I am the princess... There are days when the listening stone (had I one) would rip asunder... there are wounds that will not heal. There are hurts that linger within....

A friend, very recently, tried to boss me out of a what he perceived was a wasteful funk. I listened patiently as time and again, he called and fussed... judged and taunted... thinking it helped to bully and shame me out of the pain- until at last, tired and fed up, I snapped. I spoke. I talked. I disclosed. I poured on him, a smidgen of the ache within. An ounce of the challenges seen. A sprinkling of the things I faced. An inkling of the war I waged and he said stop. STOP! Forgive me. No more... He could not take it, could not stand to listen...simply listen... and yet I lived it everyday.

Another friend once told me that he could not look into my eyes because he saw the truth within and it was unbearable for him to see...

Today I sat and talked a while. I was reminded of a hurt. A hurt I've blocked away. A hurt that's there in feeling yet I cannot recall the words that were said. What were they? How harsh were they? Where are they? What did they say? They're gone, hidden somewhere deep within. Lost to me... because somewhere along the way, nature decided enough was enough and no more would it say to add to aches that even the listening stone could not bear...

My heart felt heavy today as I tried to recall and failed. Heavy because I wondered just what damage they could have caused, and would have caused... had consciousness not refused to shut them out and hide them deep... deep within recesses of my mind...
-that would keep them safe- until...
-build layers and walls- until...
the feeling was gone

with feeling gone...
numbness sets in
and walls are made
that make it harder still-

to open up and speak...
but speak-
to what?
to whom?

who can listen?
who can bear?
what will listen?
what will bear?

the words...
that the listening stone could not...

I sit all day and listen now,
To aches and hurts that others bring...
I watch the faces
Hear the voices
See the pain
The hurt and anguish
I see them
I listen hard
I listen long
I listen strong...

And then I realized
Who and what
I have become

I am the listening stone myself...
I see...
I hear...
I witness...
I have become

The listening Stone