There and Here

Lurking in the back pages of my mind lies a voyeur
peering into my life with disconcerted effort, as if removed from the now
like it is not happening to me.
Images blur into the past with black ooze,
layers of charred skin fall like petals of a lotus,
and up from the ashes flies the prodigal phoenix
in white-blue light of vindication.
That lurking stranger is now a participant in her own life,
grabbing each waking hour with a cat like curiosity
no longer flying by the seat of some one else's pants to hit the ground running,
not ripping out seems that were not frayed my her.
Erupting from the suffocating word of can't,
she reaches for the why the hell not,
rebellious natured spirit freed by only doing,
not wishing on stars that have been dead for many light years,
catch a spark in her eye and that is the glimmer of the present.
The past  has unclenched its icy grip on her soul,
it no longer defines who she thought she was,
no longer on the path of what used to be,
she ran to stand still in her own flesh for so long
no more, she shed more than a few layers of the past.

it is done.
© 2008 Molly Atkinson Hauk. All Rights Reserved.