Poetry Pleases: The Counsellor
In this poem Glen Taylor highlights the life-saving work of a good counsellor, but at the end of the day who takes away the counsellor's cares?
Her door is ever open
To the one with broken heart.
To those who think that death
Is, of life, the better part.
She passes o'er the tissues,
As the tears so swiftly flow,
And opens up the fissures
Of hurts you did not know.
She shows you into all the rooms,
Through doors closed to your mind,
And gently seeks the darkened place
That you don't want to find.
She listens to the tales of woe
Of battered child and wife,
And eases you through all the pains
That have made up your life.
The child who left you so bereft,
The mum who never cared,
The nightmares of the tortured mind,
Who no-one else has shared.
Within her tiny sanctum
Your inmost thoughts are shrived
And, as she slowly does extract
Each fact, your life is saved.
You're one of very many,
And, some your tale have shared,
And yet, to her, your story,
Seems the first time to be heard.
With kindness and experience
And knowledge of this world,
Her unique gift's an anchor,
Your sanity returns.
Cleansed of all the fears
You never knew were there,
Starting on a brand new life,
You drift away from her.
But ne'er will you forget her,
This one who gave you hope.
When all around forgot you,
She kept you safe, afloat.
But when she leaves her office
And closes for the day,
Who is it that listens
And takes her cares away.
