Unmasked

When memories of  traumatic blows sweep in

like  frigid breath of winters past,

Joys of summer days come lately fade

before the fearful blast of knowing,  

Seeing, eyes unmasked, brain immersed

in sordid flow, unwilled, I cannot make them

go, these memories that have come to stay

and take my life and breath away.

Be still my soul—I’ll sit awhile and rest

beneath this old oak tree.

Deep breaths, take one, and two, and  three.

Now see, I’ve closed and locked the door. 

Give me your hand, just speak my name

Tell me your love will be the same when, tempest

past, I dare reclaim that part of me that came unasked

upon the storm and stripped my leaves. My branches

bared what do you see?  Though tossed and torn I am

in truth, both who I was and who I am and who I’m

meant to be.