10/09/2014
First session
The door swings open
a face then appears
an arm ushers you in…
you want to turn back
as your head starts to spin.
You enter a room and notice
a sofa, a chair, a table
you choose, you sit
your stomach starts to churn…
more than a little bit.
They smile and sit down
bring out some papers
their expression holding a slight frown.
Form filling
factual questions
the word “confidential”…
it’s not what you expected!
Where’s the warmth?
The confessional time?
Why are they not giving you
advice straight down the line?
And then it begins…
an invitation
please tell me
what brings you here?
What would you like to offload?
To share?
What burden do you bear?
Their tone isn’t cold
nor their stare bold
instead, a slight leaning forward
soft words
a smile..
and then you know
you realise
you may be here a while.
You glance around the room
evaluate and wonder…
what if you make a blunder?
Who can hear?
Does everyone feel this fear?
How much should I share?
Why would they even care?
Where should I start?
My god…
calm down…
my racing heart!
A breath, a pause
another thought.
Will I be judged or mocked?
Will they be blase or just plain shocked?
The tears begin to well
the hands go all sticky
by now the stomach feels just plain icky!
Then you decide
even thought it’s unknown
and feels hit or miss
you take a deep breath
and jump into the abyss.
I’m here because…
Your face floods red
your stomach pounds with dread.
You battle the feeling of creeping shame
where you have long held a belief of blame.
You lower your gaze to the floor
and out of your mouth
the words start to pour…
Words © August 2014 Michelle Payne
Picture found circulating freely online
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Poems and Quotes | Tagged: advice, alive, belief, blame, caring, choice, confidential, congruence, counselling, Dreamweaver Consulting, empathy, fear, first session, healing, health, heart, hope, hurt, journey, judgement, life, listening, love, mental health, Michelle Payne, pain, path, person-centred, poems, relationships, responsibility, self-awareness, shame, sharing, strength, strong, tears, unconditional positive regard, UPR, warmth | 
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Posted by Dreamweaver Consulting
20/08/2014
My Child
You jump, you spin, you hop
the delight on your face
when the music starts
as you wiggle and try to bop.
Such enthusiasm
such glee
it’s a joy to behold
to witness
to see.
Once upon a time
I too was like that
a long time ago
before I encountered
some of life’s little mishaps!
To have such innocence
to feel so free
to dance
to move
without caring who may see.
You grin
spin round and round
arms whirling
legs twirling
until a stagger
a misstep
a fall to the ground.
I gather you up
your bottom lip starts to quiver
you sniff
and give a little shiver.
I wipe away the falling tears
and try to calm your fears
a sniffle, a snuffle, a little sob
such tears and hurt
make my heart throb.
Your friends start calling your name
they want your attention
they’re playing a game!
You look up at me
as if to ask
if I get down
will you take me to task?
Or is it ok?
Will you wait
sit there
while I go and play?
These moments I will remember
as I age and become more grey
no matter your age
my child
you will always stay.
Words © July 2014 Michelle Payne
Picture found circulating freely online
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2 Comments | Poems and Quotes | Tagged: aging, alive, body, caring, celebration, children, dance, enjoyment, experience, fall, freedom, friends, fun, gratitude, growing, happy, health, heart, home, innocence, joy, jump, laugh, learning, life, love, parents, poems, protection, quotes, responsibility, smile, soul, spin, tears, toddlers | Permalink
Posted by Dreamweaver Consulting
10/07/2013
Song of the Soul
In the depth of my soul there is
A wordless song – a song that lives
In the seed of my heart.
It refuses to melt with ink on
Parchment; it engulfs my affection
In a transparent cloak and flows,
But not upon my lips.
How can I sigh it? I fear it may
Mingle with earthly ether;
To whom shall I sing it? It dwells
In the house of my soul, in fear of
Harsh ears.
When I look into my inner eyes
I see the shadow of its shadow;
When I touch my fingertips
I feel its vibrations.
The deeds of my hands heed its
Presence as a lake must reflect
The glittering stars; my tears
Reveal it, as bright drops of dew
Reveal the secret of a withering rose.
It is a song composed by contemplation,
And published by silence,
And shunned by clamor,
And folded by truth,
And repeated by dreams,
And understood by love,
And hidden by awakening,
And sung by the soul.
It is the song of love;
What Cain or Esau could sing it?
It is more fragrant than jasmine;
What voice could enslave it?
It is heartbound, as a virgin’s secret;
What string could quiver it?
Who dares unite the roar of the sea
And the singing of the nightingale?
Who dares compare the shrieking tempest
To the sigh of an infant?
Who dares speak aloud the words
Intended for the heart to speak?
What human dares sing in voice
The song of God?
~ Khalil Gibran ~
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Posted by Dreamweaver Consulting
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