The Shape of Pain

If pain is just a warning,
an alarm signaling what to avoid,
why does its path reveal a line,
that spirals and connects each prior hurt?

If it’s just a primitive part of the brain,
that rings the bell,
why does that line cut so efficiently
through time and space?

If it’s just noise
that we must deal with,
why does it tell a story,
so redeeming and complete?

What’s the direction of the orbit,
that peels one layer at a time
and stitches back what was divided,
mind to body, heart to heart?

If this practice is so strange
why did we used to call it grief?
I’ve followed it for years and I can tell you.
the answer you don’t want to hear.

That line will take you home
to what is truly you.
Pull it like a string
that marks the path
out of the labyrinth.