I have taken a shovel and piled scoops of soil on top.
My emotional past has been buried, never to see the light of day.
I pat down the loose dirt to ensure the security of my secret.
I toss on straw and plant grass upon this unmarked spot.
As years turn into decades this secret place remains secure.
No one knows what's deep within my soul, I did a good job for sure.
I have been able to hide it from everyone, they haven't got a clue.
Sometimes I'm even able to deceive myself, but where did this fruit come from?
To my surprise, the seeds of my emotional past have grown in the dark.
Even without me watering them, not allowing them sunlight in for even a moment,
They have blossomed, and now areas of my life are controlled by their bitter fruit.
The reaper will not be denied his crop, no matter what measures we take.
I must now take back the shovel in my hands, and begin digging deeper with each scoop.
The stench of this decaying mass is ripe, but I dig on deeper, still deeper.
The bones of my self deceptions and lies are revealed and exposed to the air.
I open up the wounds as I breath in true life; now the sunlight cascades in.
Yes, I'm becoming more and more open as I unearth my hidden past;
That which I had turned away from with fear and trepidation, they are still alive within.
I couldn't kill them by ignoring them nor by burying them in the suffocating deep.
Like it or not, their crops have grown interwoven within the fabric of my life.
I am now beginning to an understand the nature of these seeds.
With careful examination and exploration, and by filling them with the light of day,
The crops still come with their fruit, but it's not the crop I had once feared.
Life has been breathed into these seeds, now the fear has turned into a blessing.
This is the paradox of life; that when we fear and we hide deep within,
This enables our fears to become manifest, their crop becomes more vile than we imagined.
Yet if we face the fear and we allow the life force to enter, the seeds become as a gentler crop.
All seeds grow and will be harvested; the question is what manner of fruit will they become?
It's your choice ; understand the paradox.
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