Two chairs

on being a psychologist in psychoanalysis…

take these tools
I can lend,
my head and heart
the path we tread,
as side by side
we learn to step,
I find your pace
you find my tread.
I see your grace
you speak your truth,
the best you can
the best you could,
you see me there
sat forth to listen,
witness to
anothers presence.

we seek the links
that carry pain,
that hold you back
against the grain.
you stay in mind
feel through my heart,
until your own
can bear to start,
and when it does
as beat shocks breath,
I’ll stay until
the floor’s at rest.
The parts you gave
that I protect,
you take them back
you hold intact.
hearts returned
heads rediscovered,
a moment shared
a mind recovers.

you’re leaving now
we both are changed,
through what was shared
through what became.
my tools are shaped
by each new us
that walks into
the chair across.
I use my head
I use my heart,
one without other
couldn’t start
to fathom what
its like to be
the person sat
across from me.

a person sat
across from me
bears the things
I fear to see,
opens space
that’s stilled around
the sound of truth
pursued by hounds.
like northern star,
a lit path cleft
through darkened scar,
truth seeps like pain
through fractured mind,
aches that bind.

both chairs,
the reach,
the possibility,
to bear
our shared
no difference
in the
space between,
the bridge?