leaning into trust
after years of doubtful
insecurity
is just as simple
as it is
radical
fairytales
when the fear of not being
good enough
is merging with
the fear of not having enough
what was fertile soil
grows barren
and hope turns into fancies
of fairytales and fables
though somewhere
in the depths
of every true tale
is a grain of faith
to nourish
treasure
and protect
emerging
golden sunlight
burning heat
a healing well
emerging from the depths of
what cannot
be seen
yet is
hole
not to be trusted
can be like a silent drop of water
dripping on a stone
until
a hole has been carved
leaving a void in the heart
it seems impossible
to fill
yet it is through that hole
that love can enter
the world
for a lifetime
when that
which for a lifetime
has been out of reach
is suddenly
possible
wonders unfold
immediately
and beauty
prevails
above
what is the game
to play
when everything
is lost
when the structure
which had kept one above
has crumbled for good
and all there is left
is
what we are
and not
who we wanted
to be
game
when what we have to offer
has never been
treasured
and protected
but rather abused
and then neglected
confusion might reign
and learning to protect
and treasure
what is to be
treasured and protected
instead of running after fame
can seem without gain
though
taking the time
to heal
what can be healed
can never be
a useless game
due
subtle summer rain
silently washing away
the reminiscences
of a life
where no trust was to be found
only raw interest
and calculations of
how to achieve
what was considered
due
detachment
detachment cannot be
attained
by will alone
as freedom cannot thrive
under control
though
everything that happens
also happens
to draw us closer
to the light
special
believing oneself to be
something special
is a fabulous trap for the mind
to spin into perverted pride
as if everyone was not
unique
claiming to have
no ambitions
only reveals
the ambitions to be
beyond what is decent to say
leaving no possibility
for who we truly are
to find its proper way