Climbing a ridge

Climbing a ridge

This painting doesn’t want its story to be told

each time I try to start, I stumble upon its name

the way to hold it

and it makes me feel some sort of vertigo

 

Is it my fear of heights that is at play here

what will I uncover once I’ll have climbed this ridge

what is hiding in this weird mountain

 

I’m scared to fall

I’m afraid to go forward

and so I stay in place

and imagine I am somewhere else

 

That’s called lying to myself and hazing

Browsing the net, pretending everything’s normal

while I am standing midway in the air

 

But as I carve this poem in the rock

I tediously make some progress

one word after another

one step at a time

on the slippery surface where I climb

 

Tell me what you are so afraid to show me

what you are hiding deep within you

that makes me shed tears

tears you refuse to let in your heart

becoming as impervious as a piece of glass

and pushing me far, far away

so strong is your terror

so deep is your pain

 

Probably you know as little as I do

you only suspect

but you prefer not to know

not to let out all these undigested feelings all at once

 

But my twin of truth and love

I am climbing the past

to help you uncover this wound

and sprinkle it with healing tears

and hold your hand and look into your eyes

until you too will cry