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What causes the false start,
the gunk to get caught in a pipe
before the truth sledges out—

is the same force, call it “fear,”
afflicting the alcoholic, sipping
sadly alone on his beer.

The hefty bear, wandering around
pure as snow, collecting food for
the winter before time to go…

Hibernation is not just the dream of
the hairy beast; we hide behind the
rocks of safety when called to

tell our controversial truth.  Because
we were judged or abused once, we
are twice shy, and over time we inch

back, back, then far enough back to
turn a fuzzy science project out of
your favorite pie, a prayer to the sky—

Freud in fact said that we drink flammable
liquid for our failure to honestly express
love.  Sex can be scary; intimacy so tender

and again, bring in a past abuse or rejection
and complicated is the issue to the level
of dysfunction.  We lie to protect ourselves;

We shy and seal lips to protect, and that
process has a course.  It ends when we
can with God, Good Orderly Direction, or

Some sort of Power greater than us Forgive
a hurt and learn to trust again.  We must
at some point “out” ourselves, “so why not

now” I may ask a shy one I love. But she
needs time; the flower is not physically
closed—but emotionally and/or mentally

there may be a block.  Sometimes formidable,
but with faith whole mountains can be
moved from there to here, this belief is real—

Recovery comes to those willing to be honest
and heal, “what’s the deal,” well the thing
hinges on Open minds and willingness after

you are willing to trust, let someone in,
and peel back your dress.  God is with
the first feeling, wants us to be honest about

it, but I’ll wait for you to find courage in
the walk toward Truth.  A walk that cannot
be made without the Wife of my Youth.

First wife is last, there is no other; when you
find her, it’s like the day you found God…

There is no other.

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