Guerilla Therapy

The Lion roars and my hallucination runs widespread
Ambush, a man in white secretly disguised as a duck lies in wait.
He has set up a trap, a vial of pills as bait
I hear,  “psssst… Do you know who the President is?” from beneath the hedges
I see him there and my pirate brand itches,
Hesitantly he creeps before blending back in the foliage curtain
I toss bread crumbs encouragingly to the man hypothesizing his stand on Newton’s Neurons
He pokes his head out from behind a bramble bush and says,  “Tell me-  why do you suppose people in glass houses shouldn’t throw rocks?”  He places a hand to his ear, and with a look of pure glee lowers behind a tree, all I see are striped socks.
I say “So they never break.”
“Why shouldn’t you give alcohol to telemarketers?”
“Incase they sell the world to the birds with a lifetime subscription to Time.”
His kind face smiles, “Why shouldn’t you fish on porcelain cruises?”
“Matey if ye believe, truly believe, when on that adventurous cruise ye be sailing for high seas, jack that not be denied any buccaneer, who dreams of where the sewer leads – not for all the fish in the world.”
“What about your family?  Children?  Wife?”
“I fell in love and married the pine tree next door – but those… “  I break up, “those damn lumberjacks…” I point disjointedly at the wooden chair and cry.
He says, “Oh, I see,” and scribbles a memo handing it to me
It reads, “Note to self, Put this yellow sticky down and never read another one again..”
“Count backwards by ten,” he says, “now breathe.”
As I count, I fall away, I am reminded of my purpose, my passions, my dreams- I breathe deep, I breathe in my soul.
He smiles kindly, “Free all you wall. Surrender.  Unlearn the knowledge that burns.  Let go of what you know… be struck down and your journey to the light-side will be complete!”

And I remember the primordial pool I crawled out an embryo.  It was brother eat brother to survive, eating one another to have strength to hop one more time, on brimstone, happy to be alive.
I remember the fountain of youth where I could not rest until I filled the well, well into my 90’s, and I recall the time when I died to ask God, ”What the hell was that all about?”
“The first step to healing,” says my pain “is to realize you already are.”
A door in my wall opens and my dog runs out happily, love is tucked in a field of ripe pumpkins rocketing the sun.
“My work here is done,” says the man then he flies over the park and lands in the pond
He removes his duck bill and a bird watcher exclaims, “Extraordinary!  So far north!  You ducks sure are crafty, I expert in ducks’ migration, what a rare moment, let me savor its course,”  he takes some quick pictures, and then, a salt lick for the running hamster, the on-gazer blows his duck horn, it quacks.
“How does that make you feel?”
The Lion charges me and I hold my own, He stops a pace away, and waits, majestically, a halo of mane beckons.  I approach Him and am pulled into an embrace.  At that moment of surrender I realize the Lion is me, I lost him long ago, He was my dream following me each day hiding in plain sight, He was my Shadow just patiently waiting for  the light.
“You’re Free,” He breathes and I awake, I hear the bird singing on this glorious day the Lord has made.

I walk outside the office cubicle
and roar