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blog - Pamela Thompson

New Name


There is nothing so desirable
As to inhabit what is Real
The search, it finds me,
Moves me and breathes me.

We can never really know
The actual truth of another,
In dark corners of our fears…
But for the innocence of our brother.

And yet all I have seen,
From heartache to sorrow,
Are illustrious illusions
We take for what is real.

So I reach out, and I touch you,
And call out your New Name
What once I thought I knew,
I can no longer can entertain.

Will I ever really see you?

Will I experience the veneration
Of a tender bending soul,
Worshiping through layers
Of endless seeming forms?

And the truth sets alight
On fire, my heart burns
Knowing well, your innocence,
The only truth left…

I reach, I touch
And call out your New Name.
I sense your reflected presence,
I feel your obscuring shame.

Reaching out to touch
The face behind your face.
A beautiful reticent visage
From a timeless, familiar place.

Fingers dropping down
Your heavy heart pulls my hand,
Into its deep caverns
To feel its stirring Life..

Carefully sifting through layers
Of so many painful wounds
Be still, I will listen, to the
Pattern of your souls echoing sounds.

I reach, I touch
And call out your New Name
An invisible Hand searching
Caressing without blame.

Breathing calm, holding still
In steady tandem, we internally gaze
The mortal vessels trembling
Life’s truest moment on fire, ablaze.

I feel your burning rhythm, 
A dance of sacred breath,
Undivided, embodied hearts in flow,
Gently surrendering to a living Death.

No thought of wicked judgment,
Nor hidden vulnerabilities shaken.
The truth that is in question,
Has not, or will ever be forsaken.

Our corporeal eyes now blinded,
Yet each sensing the rhythmed Spark
Our souls have quickened in fusion
Hearts penetrating through the dark.

And to an earthly vision
What came next can never be uttered
The rapture of the inexplicable Miracle
Defying all senses, unencumbered.

And there, my heart sees you clearly 
Standing before me, your soul is bare
Completely exposed to the other
No masks or disguises, we are scared.
And all that holds us now
Is Time without hands that are formed.
In sweet devoted forgiveness,
No longer two, but One, are transformed.

Though our fears have kept us separate,
How tenderly now, our spirits dance.
Crying out, we implore to the other-
Surrendering fully, given another chance.

Then all at once, we are in silence
Nothing heard or seen, nor the same.
Behold, a New Name echoes in the distance…

It is You that is Me..

My eternal beloved friend, 
There is no one to blame.


~Pamela Thompson
Team Host Lead
Jung Society of Utah

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