Crow Poem Revisited: The Colors of Therapy by Mark Tulin

Sitting in the waiting room at 6 p.m.,

I’m already feeling hopeful.

Although my chest feels tight

and my world a fragile mess.

I walk into your office, wide-eyed with fear

of what we will find behind the closed door;

my self-defeating tendencies, my secrets—

hurtful people and events I can no longer ignore.

You gently guide me through the maze;

the winding corridors, twisting and turning

inward to those frozen memories

that you call denial and repression.

You tell me to move slow.

My worries will lessen with time

if I learn to trust you and grasp your hand

to brace me from the fall.

 

As we chip away like Rodin

on all those bleak winter evenings,

I start out with nothing but a sigh

and end up with so much more.

 

All my trauma unravels from a spool;

frayed threads unable to find the needle’s eye.

You teach me that it’s normal to stumble.

You tell me, however long it takes.

You help me rediscover my strength;

new ways to get through the distress.

You say I have it within me to heal;

to move past the doubt, instilling hope in fear.

As your words ring in my reluctant heart,

I move past the darkness of my mind—

the blues and blacks to the peaceful pastels;

and then to the bright, sunny hues.

When the details of my self-portrait are done,

I give you a hug and leave the safety of the room behind.

You promise you will always be nearby;

a phone call if needed, an appointment away.

 

The Colors of Therapy and its video poem was originally published at LetterPile.com.