Soul Sunday

Hi friends. As my regular readers know, Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. On Sundays, I share a poem that I have written or someone else has written. Please share your poems in the Comments section. This is a sacred space for us to share the words which seep from the deepest corners of our hearts.

“Poetry is ordinary language raised to the Nth power. Poetry is boned with ideas, nerved and blooded with emotions, all held together by the delicate, tough skin of words.” — Paul Engle

Here is my poem that I wrote for today:

THE PURPOSE OF WELLS

Once there was a woman who was just walking along,

and she unexpectedly fell into a deep, dark, pitted well.

This had happened before in her journeys,

But somehow she always managed to forget

how scary, and dark, and lonely, and helpless she felt,

at the bottom of her cavernous well.

At first, she panicked. She screamed and she wailed,

and she tried angrily to claw her way out of the well,

but the clawing only gave her more injuries, and exhaustion,

And made her feel weaker than she already was.

More rocks and debris fell on to her, as she mightily struggled,

And the jagged stones opened ancient, unhealed wounds,

And these fresh, new gashes bled out all of her strength.

And she was filled with fear and despair.

She fell dejectedly to the bottom of her well and she whimpered.

It started raining. It was pouring and storming and bleak.

And those who love her, and those whom she loves and adores,

Called to her, from afar, from the top of the deep, deep well,

Promising to stay with her and to help her.

But, she intuitively understood that this rescue,

Would be something that mostly,

She would have to do for herself.

She also knew that some of her own deep loves,

Had fallen into their own deep wells, at the same time,

And she panicked and she flailed,

And she tried to gain control,

of everyone and of everything.

Mostly, she wanted to save all of those loved ones,

She wanted to pull them out of their own frightening wells,

Even more than she cared to escape her own lonely cell,

But there was really nothing she could do,

At the bottom of her own caged pit.

The woman stewed in fear, and in anxiety and in sadness and in despair.

But then . . . . when she got really quiet, she listened and she heard.

“Rest”, someone whispered, adding a hint of light into the darkness.

“Let’s just rest. Let’s just let it be.”

“Surrender. Trust. Let it go.”

And the woman felt the words swirling and beating into her heart,

The words were coming from someone sitting right next to her,

Someone peaceful and kind, holding the woman’s hand, assuredly.

It was her beautiful, serene, shining Guardian, adding light into the darkness.

“There is a purpose for your well.”

“There is a purpose for all wells,”

her Guardian soothed, and the glorious spirit held the frightened woman,

Enveloping her in soft, downy, yet mighty wings.

“Everyone else’s Guardians are with them right now, too.”

And she beckoned for the woman to look upwards.

And the woman looked up at the top of her well,

And she saw everyone whom she loved being held by their Guardians.

There was a beautiful, shining, overwhelmingly bounteous army of Guardians,

Surrounding and shielding and protecting everyone she loves,

Too many Guardians to count, forming a unified glorious light,

A light that was so luminous that it almost hurt the woman’s eyes to see it,

And then at that precise moment, the woman clearly understood,

That even people who had fallen into other deep, dark, isolating wells,

Were also being held and and were also being soothed,

And were also being loved into their own hallowed healing,

by their own sacred Guardians,

Hurting people were being held and nestled,

In their own cozy, safe, private holes of protection,

By their own fearless, loving Guardians,

Each Guardian carefully nestling their charges to wholeness, once again.

These Guardians had been assigned to their people by the Eternal One,

And then the woman realized in perfect awe, that the Guardians,

Had never left any of their people, ever at all.

And the woman relaxed into this peaceful, calming Knowing

And she slept. And she rested. And she trusted. And she let it all go.

And she healed.

And when the woman woke, after what felt like an eternity of sleep,

she felt light, and she felt energized and right before her

Stood a beautiful, solid, ornate stairway, that was easy for her to climb.

And she came back up from her deepest, darkest depths,

and she rubbed her eyes and she looked around,

and she remembered how utterly beautiful it is,

At the safe, solid landing at the everlasting top of the well.

Everything she felt and everything that she saw,

Seemed even more miraculously lovely than it ever had before.

And as she held her Guardian’s hand, she thought that perhaps,

this is what her Guardian meant.

Perhaps it is this renewal,

Perhaps it is this constant rebirth of hope,

Perhaps it is this process that happens,

in the hidden, wrapped cocoons before any crucial changes,

That is the entire purpose of falling into,

and then later, being able to climb out of,

the inky, dark, fearsome wells along our paths.

And then, stepping on to the beautiful, soft landing, at the the top of the well,

the woman took fresh, assured, confident steps forward,

Into the lightness of a beautiful, sun-filled day.

She was filled with a knowing that she is always, always surrounded and bathed,

In endless, bottomless, all encompassing Light and Love,

Even when she temporarily falls into the scattered, very deep wells,

and sometimes forgets about the eternal, impenetrable Beauty and Light,

The light which forms the everlasting well-spring,

Which nourishes and replenishes and heals every single soul,

The woman is reminded that the Light has never left her, nor will ever leave her,

Along the varied pathways and the thrilling adventures,

which make up the very essence of living one glorious human life.

We are not alone. We are never alone. We can walk in peace.

This I know.