Transition Throes

Flickering like a knackered neon,
A connection is breaking down,
Now you see me, now you don't,
Who can read in the dark?
With these half messages of mine
The two halves of my transition throe,

Flickering like an eyelid half open,
A window in me is opening up,
Now I see you, now I don't,
Who can see with eyes wide shut?
With these sleepy lids of mine,
The two halves of my transition throe

Learning through this flickering pain,
Glimpsing a future state of permanence,
Grasping for the excitement and joy,
Whilst flirting with the still distant past,
Waiting for the tipping point of my transition throe

This half finished palace resembles a dusty building site,
Yet its foundations are firm, its design a noble cause,
I will finish its construction, I will deliver the vision
And over that oaken door will I hang the garland of my new beliefs.

(This poem is about change, deep change. It doesn't come much deeper than trying to change your beliefs. Beliefs are the foundation of our behaviour, when they change then everything else changes - sometimes this can be disconcerting! It is most disconcerting when you are in the halfway house between one set of beliefs and another, when you are in the midst of the 'transition throe'. The word throe means 'a severe pang or spasm of pain, as in childbirth'. It exactly fits the feeling of giving birth to new beliefs. The old world drops away and the new world starts to take shape and inbetween lies the 'flickering pain'. Yet once started the job has to be finished. The new palace has to be built. Determination pushes you. The vision pulls you. There is no turning back. The second verse of the poem reminds me of the quote from Marcel Proust - 'The voyage of true discovery lies not in seeking new landscapes, but in seeing with new eyes.')