let it go: now the barren gives way to the blossom (classic)

It was only six months ago that I first posted this poem,
albeit with a different Matisse painting (“Open Window, Collioure” 1905).
Today, the words carry a slightly different resonance,
and so a new image invited itself onto the page.

now the barren gives way to the blossom
if you but untie the limp strings of your torn and tender heart
and let it go

the mountainous terrain of the past heaves and crumbles
and in its stead soft valleys arise in a series of gently rolling caresses,
if you but sink to your knees and assume the holy posture of acceptance
and let it go

the moment you allow yourself to be fully fed,
you acknowledge the depth of your lingering starvation
and you can let it go

the instant in which you agree to be wrapped in illuminative splendor,
you shed the chill that has held you in its icy grip through endless summers
and you can let it go

when you are able to meet the eyes of one who bears your true reflection
and not shrink from your own brilliance
(no matter how tarnished you believe it to be),
a glorious visage will greet you
and you will be shown all that was withheld from your gaze
since the onset of antiquity
so let it go

once your senses are awash in silent symphony
you recognize how fervently you had come to rely on distraction,
the hollow ring of obfuscation forever fades
and you are gifted with the sustained and echoing tones of truth
so just let it go

once you bid farewell to your default resistance
and release it with kindness and grace,
you shake your head in astonishment
that you chose to carry it for so long
and yes, you let it go

there is a moment in time
when you find yourself at peace with all that once brought deep grief
and you feel sorrow give way to an indeterminate joy,
your aching for authenticity subsides without notice
something inside opens ever so slightly,
and you enter the temple of divine consummation
where you are the lover and beloved and every act is born sacred and pure

and in that single, uncontainable moment
you know that love’s offering dwells within~
has waited patiently upon the doorstep
while you pointed yourself in another direction,
bemoaning its absence
and decrying the forsaking of your soul

til at last, with a sigh,
you simply let it go