Friday, December 17, 2004


O misery. It is difficult to walk
With thorns in your feet.
The sting, the bleeding-
Why is it you are not heeding
Your longing for another path?

O misery. You are walking on glass.
Your sole is cut and torn.
Why have you shorn your raven locks,
Why do you stumble dreamless in your pain?

Misery, I remember you before the hemlock.
I remember you proud and fierce.
Before you drank the drink of self-forgetting,
You were glorious, an exquisite gyre,
Turning in the sun.

Misery, what have you done?
Why do you pluck you feathers
Bleeding by your beak?
Misery, speak to me. Say your name.
Say the shame you feel not saying it.

Misery, remember who you are.
That long and jagged scar:
Own what you've done-
This costly dance with bloody feet on jagged stone.
Own what you've done, forgive it and come home.

(The right to write - Julia Cameron)