POETRY: {I’m Sorry}

I’m Sorry

 

But if I said so chalantly

that “the secret” that you seek

was simply “there is no secret”

You would surely soon start

to become skeptic

and suspicious

of my insouciance.

 

So you’d scatter,

and seek suitable counsel elsewheres.

And they might not be so sincere,

And end up saying to you exactly what you want to hear.

 

Your heart craves a notion

that more practice is necessary

And you search for schooling

from someone special

to show you things you suspect you aren’t seeing.

You desire the same combustion of the sun

from someone else’s spark

And still

you solicit this auxiliary person

to keep you safe and secure

while your soul sojourns.

 

So instead,

I subtly squelch my desire

to show off this inside scoop⏤

or is it just a sophistry?

And I serve this self-storified notion of yours

and I promise to serve it assuredly.

Certainly you’d subject yourself to this charade

for so long as you desire.

 

But fancy it or not,

at some instance,

exactly on schedule,

you’ll absolutely see,

the next steps you need to saunter

are assembled specifically

to stimulate and strengthen

your spirit at its essence.

 

To savvy this summons is scary,

unsettling,

spine-chilling.

Surefire though,

there is no shortcut

You try to stall,

shunt,

shove it aside,

stave it off a second,

surcease.

But subconsciously,

you‘re sure there is no excuse left unused.

 

You need to start this instant

No one can rise and cross swords for you.

No one can show you your own superpowers.

But you simply need to see it.

Your story and skills are so special

That you can’t surmise that someone who

is not yourself will see these surreal sums

within yourself.

 

And once you realize

that you’ve possessed

this secret⏤

or sham

in the midst of it all.

You’ll next see

that all the seemingly serendipitous occurrences

in this circus

are not so serendipitous,

but stages set out in auspicious styles.

Each fascinating

within themselves,

but also schemed especially for you.

 

And once you accept this sentence

with a deep breath, and closed eyes,

you swallow and shrug your shoulders,

then release you tensioned muscles.

 

Your new smile

will susceptly show off your stoutheartedness.

On second thought,

perhaps it’s not so much of a smile,

Moreso⏤a smirk,

Or a slight sparkle that the shallow won’t see

Or they choose not to survey.

However, the whole world will see and reciprocate that smile,

recognizing that you’re no longer

subject to anyone else’s subvert bullshit.

 

So I’m so sorry that you’ll never spot explicitly what you desire,

So long as you search so staunchly for it.

But the second you surrender

to what will soon be

You see that “the secret” is synonymous with all sorts of silly shit

that selectly either doesn’t exist,

Or⏤ that you’ve possessed

surprisingly

since the start.