a strange fog surrounded me
within which I banged my head before and through sleep
had rages, and stammered -
in which my body was awkward,
and hesitant, not even monoglot -
which I was not even aware of -
in which I tried to avoid the stress
I felt even within my cocooned sensibility - my life devoted
to banishing stress, yet eager for knowledge
which probably brought yet more -
a cloud of unknowing unknown to me
which I (in my seventies)
have only just recently managed to dissipate -
so I now find myself unhurt and strong,
protected, happy and calm
- as maybe I was all along.
2 comments:
Unhurt or healed?
Unhurt, I think. The fog protected me to a large extent.
The lines above were inspired by a phrase I read recently:
"The mute-button was pressed all through my childhood."
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