I gave you my love
and you held it so near.
I gave you my heart
and you held it so dear.
You gathered my laughter,
and stood by my pain;
a guard by my fear
till I joined you again.
But when I gave you my anger
you lowered your arms,
and stepped from my side,
as if fleeing from harm.
And you turned from
my tears, when I gave them
to you and they fell to my heart
and washed my love through.
What I wanted you see,
was to give you myself,
but when I had finished
removing all that,
you wouldn’t accept,
then I couldn’t find me.
To search within the almost seen, scramble in the mind,
to rummage through the coats of past, seeking so to find,
who I am and who I was and who I still might be;
so does love draw gentle hands across eternity.
Who was I then, who am I now, and who will I become,
so do the questions roll and taunt when certainty is gone,
and who I might have been, or could, has drifted on the wind;
so do potentials reach an end, before we can begin.
That morning when I woke in fear and huddled into Self,
as dreams and deep imaginings were tumbling from the shelf,
so then I saw in scattered wreck the tramplings of my heart;
and realised, that who I was, had never played a part.
And yet it had been written, this tortured, searching path,
which led from birth and on to death, as pure and soulful art,
for in the journey to become, to know and render true;
I learned the shape of what was me, perceived, what was called you.
) Who are you and whom do you love?
2) What else are you, that no one has seen before?
3) Describe a morning you woke without fear.
4) What lingers when all is said and done?