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The River

by John Bourke

Every time I walk along that way

You are there, Like a faithful friend.

Your sounds washing over me Remembering, reminding, beckoning..

The soft unfurling of my soul.
A home From the incessant growl of being locked in;
I have accepted and adapted,

Bent low my head and borne.
The pain, and gotten on with it,

And gotten on with it!
But now a beautiful anger rises in me.
Screaming at the grief and hurt
And senseless loss…

And still,
Every time I walk along that way.
You are there,
Like a faithful friend.
Your sounds now cradling my cries
Returning, smiling, beckoning
The soft unfurling of my soul.

John Bourke is in training to become a psychotherapist, at present undertaking the MA in Psychotherapy in DBS. John has a particular interest in Integral Psychotherapy.

(C) IAHIP 2021 - INSIDE OUT 94 - SUMMER 2021