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Denial
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Along the cobblestone path I walked
Somewhere along the way
I lost myself.
It hardly mattered,
I climbed a tree or two,
And there were wildflowers growing everywhere,
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In the springtime the sun would glance at me
From behind the cirrus clouds
Perhaps only to greet me
Upon this path I walked every morning
I walked alone, and in the summertime,
I became a patron saint.
Enamored of the deer, I was, and
I adored the blue jays,
I sang with the mockingbirds.
I danced with the evergreens that
Swayed in the cool autumn breeze,
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In my solitude
I would walk along this path in the wintertime,
Through the falling snow I could envision
Miles ahead of me
Branches and branches of barren trees encased in ice,
I would wonder if this is what heaven others spoke of-
Too spectacular to be deemed reality-
I whispered back to the voices that spoke to me
Only I could hear.
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Somewhere along the way I had lost myself.
It hardly mattered
I was a child of the wilderness
The deer, the evergreens and the barren maple trees
And the voices inside my head,
Together, we became a family.
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It is late summer, and
The air is sultry.
The woods are a place that I find peace and harmony
I hear the locusts screaming,
The chanting of the crickets, and the song of the nightingale, as the
Evening would set in.
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I have been called a wounded spirit, a lost soul.
I hear voices whispering above the locusts’ screaming,
I feel my tears falling with the rain which
Has just begun to fall from the approaching storm.
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A storm is raging inside of me.
Somewhere along the way
I lost myself.
It hardly matters though, as
Wildflowers are growing everywhere,
Canadian wild geese are flying home in V formation.
I have fallen in love with the splendor of the woodlands.
I talk back to the voices that speak to me gently and unobtrusively.
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Somewhere along the way,
Somebody found me and snatched me from my home space,
Took me away to a cinderblock building, and closed the door behind.
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Now I find myself walking up and down a long hall-
The floors are tiled, and the walls are white and endless,
Everything is antiseptic- clean, and
Strange people, dazed and sleepy-eyed are pacing up and down the halls,
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Somewhere along the way,
I became lost, and then found.
I miss the evergreens, the sun and the song of the whippoorwills, and even the
Screaming of the locusts.
But the voices inside my head and I –
We are still a family…
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Claudia Krizay
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