Child Within


     Child Within

And so,

in our recovery,

the silent child

walks backwards

through eons of wounds,

recalling each face,

acknowledging each fallen tear,

each offence,

each indignity

forced upon us,


each beating and battering,

each instance

of sexual abuse,

each betrayal

and all the self-abuses

we have committed

against ourselves,

each and every grievance

we carry upon our backs,

our burdens.


This victim,

this universal child,

so personal,

this boy/girl

we have survived,

this secret Christ,

this small body

with scuffed knees

on asphalt playgrounds,

teased and bullied

while walking on broken stilts

in the comic parade,

who hangs on crucifixes

over alters in churches,

who picks through garbage heaps

in Calcutta,

or sits straight laced

on the hard benches

of private academies

for the children

of the rich and powerful.

We are told

that this innocent one,

because of his/her

goodness, purity, beauty

and naivety,

must be abused,

must be made to suffer,

must be punished,

must be sacrificed,

must be crucified

so the adult can emerge.

“It´s for your own good.”

they say.



he or she

is the vulnerable, unformed body of all,

this universal child,

and only through

this life of sorrow

this monstrously cruel reality

through countless deaths

and rebirths,

can the soul rise

and come to somehow know

who and what

he or she

truly is,

to become whole

in the first place.


But such an adult

can never be whole

for the soul of our past

the soul of our present

the soul of our future

are one

and have never been separate,

existing simultaneously,

all at once

in the wholeness

of the infinite moment

of ourselves

and we can only recover

through the healing power

of self-forgiveness,

delight and wonder,

of who we are

and who we have been,

now and always,


to be and to be

such a sweet child.

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