The Secrets of the Shadowy Grove


There was a shadowy grove, hidden deep in the forest

Rarely visited, if at all or, by those of kindly intentions

The shadows are deep and in them the land rarely dries

The water has created masses of moss, littering the ground


If you take time, you can see that there are secrets hidden under the moss

Glistening through the droplets of water that surround them

The years have dulled their patina, their only colour from that water

They remain potent in their power, despite the distance from their source


So what is buried in that grove, deep in the shadows, beneath the moss?

Secrets that created the person that writes this today, choosing this way

Secrets that hover under my skin, as much as they are buried in soil

Burial changed nothing, their potency remains a consistent thorn of pain


If they are dug up, no matter the skill, the landscape is forever changed

Where do the piles of turned soil get placed?  Tainted in their contact

Are there secrets in every grain of soil? Little kernels of hurt

If missed will they embed in the skin and cause enduring pain?


Can you recover enough of the secrets to feel safe from their poison?

Through searching in their depths, find some form of peaceful coexistence

Not denying their reality but finding a way to give them their rightful place

As much a part of you as any of the good emotions and memories


It is a precarious journey to the shadowy grove and then return

Burdened with the secrets that you seek to carefully unpack

One by one, understanding their power and dis-empowering it

Making them memories, not poison, not bad, just memories


Eventually the shadowy grove will become empty, able to reforest

Never with more secrets, as that would defeat the entire process

Instead, it can become a place of remembrance and gentle reflection

A quiet place to remember, but no longer through judgement or pain

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