The Soup of My Soul


Dalia

What it is to feel the weight of change.

Every fibre of my being in a shift.

Energy flits and flies from

Head to toe.

Takes my breath away;

Gives it back.

Breathe …

Moving through another layer

Self-doubt waves in my

Direction.

“Remember me?” it yells,

Desperate for my attention

While desperately I push it

Aside. “I thought I dismissed

You long ago,” I bristle, and

Run screaming from the room.

To soul’s kitchen.

Something’s cooking. Smells

Inviting. An onion on the counter.

Peel back the layers.

Oh, how it stings!

Throw it in the pot.

Stir. Stir. Stir.

No wonder I cry.

Let it simmer.

Breakdown.

Stir. Stir. Stir.

Its hard shell softens.

The suffering ceases, reduced

To a savoury translucense

That sweetens

The soup of my soul.

~*~

Healing is a bitter-sweet experience.

When you get through the bitter the results can be sweet. 😉

Thanks for visiting,

Dorothy

~*~

©Dorothy Chiotti, Aimwell CreativeWorks 2014


4 thoughts on “The Soup of My Soul

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