Russian Doll
 
A hint of shame a tinge of guilt
that I am not content
with the what the how the where of you
but am drawn towards the why
The self of secret silent solitary hours
when doubts and private pain prevail
The you that only you dare see
I long for you to share with me
 
Best once put thus

Your pain is your flower
and I would not pluck it
though It’s scent
turns my head
 
The trust to see so deep is rare
a privilege beyond compare
for in this precious private space
I can say I am frightened too
but thrilled excited just to know
the self that perhaps only lovers show
Another mind another guarded self
that only courage and the miracle of language can release
but words can deflect obscure and hide
in the what the how or even where of self
the why is not said but shown
In truth language can unguard the soul
it’s sentry dispatch to unwitting sleep
but if ever trust then invites you in you must never play
with what is deep in another soul.
 
Our many selves live many lives
we are who we choose to be
but exhausted by pretence and show
somewhere deep inside we know
we long to set our essential spirit free
For lovers this is a moment's passing bliss
for friends a sharing what’s amiss
for child and grandchild their innocence echoes
blind faith in good the world destroys
Ah me if only we could once again
be those trusting little girls and boys
 
And so we stand we sit we lie
we long to reach the other mind near by
perhaps it is just longing, love
but there is a deeper mystery
We live the what the how the where
but it is the why that sets us free
The why of you that entrances me