Reputation

My response to http://trailbrazin.blogspot.com/2017/04/prompt-23-behind-closed-doors.html


Inspired when I read Nick Flynn's "You moved me through each room" about his experience being hypnotized and taken back to a childhood home.  It took me back to the first time I was hypnotized as a past life regression exercise.  I found myself exactly as this narrative poem says...the feelings were very real.

Reputation

I stand with my back against the

locked door and stare at my sandal-shod feet.

How did it come to this?

I have been well-loved by this village.

A place I’ve always called home.

I am blessed with good fortune. I am

able to share generously. Some call me

benefactor.

It’s my preferred title. Someone who

wants the best for all.

But now an angry mob is pounding

on this door, demanding answers,

and I’m afraid no answer will be

good enough.

That little peasant man who came for

money, I did not believe him.

He is untrustworthy in my eyes, a drunk;

Everyone knows it.

I made my decision based on that.

I judged him without looking in

the man’s eyes and seeing that

yes, it was true his child needed

medicine, and he had no means.

I just thought of the rumors of why he

did not live in town and how

he had more children than he

could feed, and how he abused his

wife. I didn’t trust him.

I judged.

And now I’m judged, as somehow the

town has rallied around this man.

I underestimated their community.

I had dismissed any thought that

he was one of them.

I thought he was Other.

And I assumed others thought so, too.

And now a child has died

in our little town,

and I’m to blame.

I stand behind this closed door

terrified of losing my standing,

my adulation,

my lofty place in the social hierarchy,

Yet small, how small

I feel right now.

But I cannot stand behind this door forever.

Can I recover?

Can I open this door,

face them all,

and say…

I’m sorry?

hms

5.14.17