“We must be able to let things happen in the psyche.
…It would be simple enough, if only simplicity were
not the most difficult of all things.”
— C.G. Jung
It’s so obvious, if only you knew what
it was, or truly wanted to know.
The woodpecker hammering
at your heart may have found a rotten tree.
That would be bad news.
Better to know it?
On the other hand, dozens of empty taxis
stop in the rain to pick you up and you
haven’t even waved for them.
Go ahead. Ignore it all.
Disregard the painful saga;
forest of dying cedar trees,
dried remains of oak leaves, the old, still
accumulating compost of shame.
Walk on through the rain.
Don’t glance up now. You
don’t want to be taken down to the riverside,
into the place of grief. You aren’t open
to knowing what a fool you’ve been.
It’s fine. Who can rush the most
difficult of all things?