Inward Bound

Is it possible to know too much about oneself?
Can the image we hold and mold be distorted by looking too deeply into the crevices and cracks of our psyche and soul?
Whats known is a quilt of our own creation,
A stitched together consciousness.
Whats unknown is silent and lurking,
Awaiting the seed of enlightenment to be planted.
If I stare long enough,
My gaze blurred and fades into a clear vision.
Shedding skins and bonds of what held me,
Using a Heaven sent courage to push myself into a Golden Light of possibilities.


About ingridfalconi

I'm a married mother of three and a published author.
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