Turns out
I am not
always right.
This humbly
loving hermit..
has accumulated
many blind spots
in his sight.

I see the world
not as it is..
but rather
through the lens
of all my wounds.
Maybe it doesn’t always
have to hurt..
Maybe I am The One
who chose to make
the pain of love
my truth.

What did it take
for me to realize this?
Was it not..
A kind and gentle
mirror.
She pointed out
that she is there
to love me
and to see
me happy..
And all of a sudden
everything seemed
clearer.

I am the architect
of my own pains.
To my own
prideful armor..
I’ve become
a slave.
Within an echo
chamber
of my own
construction
I confined
my inner child.
And the reflections
of my shadow self
is all that I could see..
as they were bouncing,
back and forth,
from wall to wall
upon its inside.

Outside of it,
I saw an enemy
where there was
nothing..
but a loyal friend.
She gently boinked
the outer wall..
and it collapsed.
I love her dearly
for it.. to the end.