the struggle within

The struggle within

 

I have been too held back

By this birth this skin,

Hiding bruises, scars

Blood and sinew.

 

I need to be born again

Formed anew in a mother’s womb

Free from this plague of sin and pain

 

Once a wise old man asked someone wiser

How this could be done

As if the question was rhetorical

Unanswerable,

Not knowing his question

Was dumb, like sheep not knowing

Their foot hold on new pastures

 

I am curious to know

How my flesh can reawaken

And cast of the old me

The me that likes danger and habit

 

I don’t hurt anyone

I’m a humanist if there is such a thing

But I’m battling with thoughts

And feelings that a politically correct

World accepts, but I know that my

Spirit feels they are wrong

 

So into the depth of despair I go

Carrying my cross, my shield, my sword

Into the battle of the day.

Relying on wits and intuition

And thought changing words

I read yesterday

 

The nights are the hardest

When I’m alone, with no one

To sharpen my conscions

And mark my steps

 

The dark draws in and marks my magnolia

Walls like shape shifting monsters

Where the compulsion to stray enters my thoughts

 

Still I’ve learned not to take my wanderings outside

Where night creatures loom and wait like death

To devour and gossip of wounded animals

Trying to find a fold

Caught in headlights

Of open sin and all that that portrays

 

Now I am a secret like a gift

Closeted, wrapped up, bow tied and ribboned

Like a chick hatching from a well-protected egg

Yet struggling to break free

From the power that holds me

I’m getting there,

But it’s harder than you think

To be born again.