Pain is the ransom

Pain is the ransom

you have gladly paid

not to be free

                Gifts from a Course in Miracles

                Frances Vaughn & Roger Walsh, Editors

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It was just a tiny movement

almost un-seeable

amidst the dense forest of thistles

a tiny pond

in the midst of an urban

jungle

resting in the shade of

a Home Depot and a 7-11

then a small brown nose

eased its way out

into the sunlight

from the dark and wet confines

of weeds and vines

eyes darting

nose pulsing

you could almost see

its hypertension

as for a moment it broke free from it confining world

and looked at the green expanse of park that

stretched for blocks before it

then another twitch

and it was gone

back into whatever

bunny world it inhabited

the vast freedom of the grass forsaken

for safety perhaps

it might have been a wise “bunny decision”

and yes there was danger

but freedom too

and I could not help but think

how often I poke my nose out

“spiritually speaking” from the dense

jungle of my mind

and eye the freedom that could come

if I would only leave old

fears

old failures

old patterns

old wounds behind

only to fearfully retreat

into the dank darkness

and pain

O Sacred One, give me the strength

to make that mad dash to freedom!