freed-up in giving

no one can hold you

the way you want to be held.

no one has heard your story, 

the way you have privately lived it.

every fiber of your being

is not in the arms of another's embrace.

no story you can tell,

will encompass the carry or the burden.

another would have had to,

by their own making and ability,

walked your path, step by step,

to know the disappointments and the linger,

the fallbacks on self 

and the close-out of circumstances,

the private scourges and the fallouts,

as if depression was ever-hidden 

but still inwardly present.

you can't really share 

what is so well disguised,

for there is too much apparent uplift present,

for others to question the privacy of your feet,

standing in the alone of feelings undisplayed. 

your story, away from the sorrow,

is all initiative that actually comes to you easy

but does not represent what is carried within.

such an odd combination of wealth and worry,

apprehension and accomplishment,

caring available and insularity yet unannounced.

there will come a time,

when trees will mentor you,

when a soul sense of others is present in them also,

when it will not be language that speaks you

but a presence of self with a calling

that allows for an unspoken dialogue with others,

that heals you and mends you,

that feeds you where you felt lacking,

that completes you into forthright animation.

where all of your wounds heal 

is where wings become born.

what was necessary sorrows for now

becomes the medium of your transformation 

for then.

it is not the time that cures

but the calling from within

that overwhelms your circumstance

into a medium of spirit-presence,

where others embrace you for your calling

and you become the deeds as evidence  

that free you

in the service to the wellness of those around.

cause-worthy aligns through you from beyond. 

what private sorrow can represent 

demystified, are then freed-up in your giving 

to walk free-spirited forward . . .