My secrets cry aloud. I have no need for tongue. My heart keeps open house, My doors are widely swung. An epic of the eyes My love, with no disguise. My truths are all foreknown, This anguish self-revealed. I’m naked to the bone, With nakedness my shield. Myself is what I wear: I keep the spirit spare. The anger will endure, The deed will speak the truth In language strict and pure. I stop the lying mouth: Rage warps my clearest cry To witless agony.
You can find this poem in The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke
I’m naked to the bone,
With nakedness my shield.
Myself is what I wear:
I keep the spirit spare.
My mother had this quote pinned up in my childhood home. I didn’t know where it came from. Thank you for allowing me to find my way to the full poem.
Roethke speaks to me on the deepest level. Here is one example of that.