residual | a brief introduction
phantom limbs, and echoes,
and shadows cast — these are the past. and can they last?
when left unseen.
but what if, instead,
yesterday’s a handprint?
not quite a palm, no, but
its same design.
would you understand then that
those ghosts were residual,
always meant to be acknowledged, then left behind?
The next poem set is called Residual. The heart of it being those awesomely convicting words of Carl Jung’s:
Until you make the unconscious conscious, you will continue to subscribe to it and call it fate.
And maybe also Cat Power‘s … that is,
the doctor said I was not my past / he said I was finally free
… so! let’s see!