Wednesday, March 16, 2016

ADOLESCENCE the birthday of the imagination.

Two faces in front of me.
I can read their expressions.

Two fifteen year old boys.
Faces moved.
Something happening in their souls.
It was surging upwards and outwards.
Through their human frame to display on their faces.
Words did not flow easily.
Words hesitant, stumbling.
Words telling me that they had been moved within.
Telling me that they had connected with an experience.

"A disturbed child
frequently mistrusts things
put into words,
it his experiences ...
which will often
bring healing"

John Bowley

We are sick as we are secret. 
[John Berryman]