The Search Is Over... The Observer Observes

Over the years I have been using the power of expression to interpret my internal signals and the triggers that would send me in side my Well only there was nothing in that Well to keep my being well. That is what it appeared to me each time I wanted to enjoy a bit of my core. Years later I have come to discover that the blandness was just the shell that protected the real McCoy in me. To get to it however, I had to remove all the pachydermic layers that encased my essence.

The Observer

Being shielded by her own emotions
Is what made her most fascinating
As she approached me for direction
To the path leading back to herself.

I was curious but I didn’t want to analyze
How long she’d been lost and wandering
Or why she felt safe to ask me for the way
She came closer and motioned me to sit.

I wondered if she had read my thoughts
And wanted to share her purpose with me
Or maybe it was to defend her character
That may have been flagged as indecent.

She told me her heart ached with longing
It was near blossomed when she lost herself
While being someone everyone would like
Only to lose the person she was born to be.

Since then she has been an empty shell
Who longed to resolve the inner conflict
She broke down as she lamented her loss
Something silver or gold couldn’t replace.

With each step she took in her mind
She got closer to her final destination
Filled with joy she skipped and danced
As she found the one she was looking for.

I wrote The Observer some years after the realization that this was what is was going to take- many years of gentleness and patience of falling and getting up; of aaaahs and ouches; of sweat, smiles, tears and deep longing!

There was no other way so I removed my feet on God’s brakes and headed straight into the Refiner’s Fire. Over a decade and I am still in there… the grim reality is as long as I am human I will have to check in to he furnace every now and then for a tune up!

More recently I revised The Observer; and called its twin The Search Is Over

The Search Is Over

She kept searching
For someone to love her
She kept searching for that someone
To love and complete her

Made so many excuses
For someone to love her
Even tried to change her self
All in vain so she kept searching

A little piece of hell
Tried to devour her soul
Didn’t like the picture of her
So the search continued

Sprinkles of love and affection
Broken life and fragmented self
Something seemed still missing
T’was a shadow of her she saw

Someone to love her
In free abandon and soft caress
So she searched and searched
The depth of her soul

Someone knew she was searching
Waited patiently with eyes wide open
Arms opened wide waiting for her
To give her back to her self

Her eyes beheld such a person
Someone to love and complete her
Smiling at her in the mirror
Beautiful illusions traded spaces

Trampled rose with living colour
That someone she searched for
Embraced her silhouette
And welcomed her self back


Looking at them- the poems- vis-à-vis each other I am wondering which came first. A classic case of the egg or the chicken… oh well God knows. Incidentally this phrase “God Knows” is the best indicator that I have to surrender to its wisdom, or else I would abandon this lifetime commitment to keep my Well uncontaminated.