Preclusions

4 October 2005

I lived so long
with a pain which precluded
any sort of normalcy;
an ache which ruled out
any opportunity for peace.

It seemed to come from nowhere;
had always been; would always be,
presumably; was inherent;
a part of who I am, making who
I am somehow unacceptable.

So I’ve learned to equate
grief with some sort of misstep,
most often on my part,

and when it comes
(the grief, that is) I fall into
familiar patterns of
self-flagellant deprecation,
for surely I have played the fool,
if chaos swirls about me so.

It is a subtle and
cruelest form of delusion,
to believe oneself wise
in avoiding any grief; any strife.
For in so shunning hardship
of the heart, one takes leave
of any opportunity to love;
give; receive.

Avoidance precludes naught

except humanity.