Journey to Your Deepest Self

was I the one?

what I want to know is

was it my fault?

was I the one who

threw the final stone

that knocked you

off the cross and

into the compost

the one who dipped

and filled my bucket

again and again

desperate for more of you?

was I the one who

convinced you

I wasn’t reliable

wouldn’t show up

when it really mattered?

was I the one who

scraped you away

from the scene

where you stood on

the precipice

ready and willing?

the one who instead

led you down into

the garbage heap

where you still sit

and sift through

the millennia of shrinking

stinking sopping trash

imagining here you will

find the clue that erases

feeling small

and insignificant

wasted buried gone?

was I the one you

turned to

reached for

as I ran the other way

turned the corner on you

turned as soon as I

caught the yellow

of your jacket

made a left turn

because I knew you

were headed right?

was I the one who

told you to jump?

who told you not to?

was I the one?


5 Responses to “was I the one?”

  1. Miriam says:

    This photo is like a portrait of myself when I am longing to call and make an appointment with you to be ‘coached’ into aknowleging my tightly constricted and intricately layered feelings; when I am desperate to release my paralyzing self incriminating accusations and judgements; when I yearn from somewhere deep, deep inside to experience myself as an accepting and loving being; when the only thing that matters is letting go. The shadow on the bottom right hand corner of the photo is so amazing-the shadow self, just there.

    Your poem is so powerful, taking me down into the heart of doubt and pain-yet the question itself, “was I the one?”, somehow belies the answer-yes, and no; the question that says, look here, look at this question, it will take you to every kind of loving forgiveness and open hearted compassion-if you follow it into the depths. Love you Pam!

  2. Pam says:

    Wow, Miriam. Your very eloquent response is so heartening… and encouraging… that you could find yourself here, with a great deal of understanding and insight… and then express as you have. I’m impressed, grateful, excited! It’s what I dream of, want so much from writing and visual expression, and so often doubt can happen. It’s as though you have connected intimately with this piece and then have continued the intimacy, by revealing yourself in a way that takes me deeper than where i was before. Thank you. More opening for parts of self… more love… Love you too, Miriam!

  3. Luana says:

    Pam, our poem here is beautiful and nails the “stranger metaphore.”

    “and leaning on your window sill
    he’ll tell you that You’ve caused his will
    to weaken
    with your Love and Warmpth and Shelter

    and takeing from his pocket and old schedual of trains

    he says, “I told you when i came i was a stranger”

    Pam Your poetry is mystical and other worldly, Chrystalizes the emotions of time into the thoughts of eturnity, like a good poem should.

    Once lost without a trace
    I am greatfull for this Grace
    as only You can emagine.

    Thank You My Friend.

  4. Pam says:

    Thank you, Luana!!!

    Two poets stood
    you can check to see…
    are they still there?
    No? They moved on, did they?

    Two poets stood for a moment
    and looked each other in the eye
    knew who they were
    themselves and the other
    a moment of total recognition.

    That moment where the two poets stood
    reached forward and back
    reached down and up.
    That moment extended
    in all directions
    like any real moment does.

    A stranger no stranger than this
    a moment no different
    from the you the I we are.

  5. Pam,

    I just re-read this piece and I love it so much!
    There is something so poignant about… all of it but especially
    “caught the yellow of your jacket
    made a left turn…”
    That line makes me catch my breath and I can feel the catch all the way down…
    Beautiful. Thank you.

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