Liar
When did we decide that lying,
Is acceptable?
When did we decide that lying,
Has great value, is profitable?
When did we decide that lying,
Is the fast route to success, to fame, to winning??
When did we decide that white lies,
Are not lies?
When did we decide that omissions
Are not lies?
We all know when,
don’t we?
When our small ears twitched with confusion,
When our soft young skin itched with heat,
When our tender truth-teller hearts, felt their first ache,
When our child wide open minds tightened our confused brows,
Realizing that something was not what it truly is,
Realizing that what mommy and daddy were saying and doing,
Was not how they truly felt.
When did lying,
Become so fashionable,
Oh yes,
When our small, alive, tender bodies squirmed,
Stuck on our hard school desks,
Unable to tell the truth of the misery,
Unable to share the pain of our stuckness,
The suffering of the rigid veil of conformity closing around us.
When our childhood needs for passionate intimacy,
Were not met,
No matter how hard we tried.
And oh yes when our wild child spirits,
Danced, sang, cried, screamed, giggled, touched our alive parts, laughed, swirled in total bliss With wild abandonment,
And the sword of disapproval struck it’s blade of inappropriateness,
Into our soft, open bellies.
When did we decide that telling the truth,
Is dangerous?
When our oh so deep feelings that were sandwiched tightly between,
Shame, guilt, between looking so good and fitting in.
When security, Hiding, and denial,
Became our adult Gods,
Became our survival kits.
How do we feel now trying to navigate this world,
When we know that those we trust,
Are lying?
How do we feel trying to navigate this world,
When we lie,
To save face, to feel lovable, to be the admired one?
How do we feel trying to relax, to enjoy,
When energy does not match.
feelings, words, actions?
Without our awareness,
Our narrowing lying veins,
Are strangling the primal needs of our passionate truth blood.
So if you dare,
Sit alone,
With your beating heart,
And tell the truth,
To yourself,
And feel the God of recovery,
Wildly dancing and singing Away our addiction,
To lying.
Or would you rather,
Sit suffocating ,
IN the limitless mountain of ashes,
That the fire of our human lies is creating…