Strong Enough To Grow

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Two decades ago
a wise woman once asked me
if I was strong enough to stay in my parents’ house
or if I was strong enough to go
I wasn’t strong enough to stay
so I left

One decade ago
I wrote my parents a letter
asking if they wanted to work things out
They denied the situation
insulted my choices
dismissed my essence
yet somehow I didn’t think there was enough
to justify a final severing

And now
with the decaying fruit of my childhood
littered all around me
and the accumulated trauma
continuing to wreak havoc within me
my voice still not being heard
I have to ask myself:
“Am I strong enough to stay
or am I strong enough to go?”
I no longer see a reason to stay
so I am forging ahead on a new path
with an invigorated commitment to being
strong enough to grow

When You’re Not An Enabler

Dalian Oil Spill Accident

 

 
I don’t have to let her go
but it’s O.K. for me to leave
I didn’t make the rules
I refuse to comply with the terms
There is no “agree to disagree”
when a human life is at stake
the life of someone I love
And anyway
the generational accumulation of toxicity
is pushing me past the borders
I don’t have to let her go
but there is no reason for me to stay

Not My Game

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I did not start this game
I have failed in re-writing the rules
with Fun House mirrors
they control the distortions of my reflections
none of us actually seeing me
which is just the way they want it

It’s exhausting

My cries echo but are never heard
blending into the cacophony of their Amusement Park
while they claim the rights as victims

They may be the owners of this jumbled real estate
but I am removing my name from their deed
and discarding the burden of blame
It hasn’t been enough to refuse to play
The only way to win is to leave

Survival

downstream1

 

It’s not a weakness on my part
that I can’t go where you’ve gone
It’s not a lack of moral integrity
that I cannot support your act of carving
My soul cries out for repair
I am bleeding out
And the draining of my lifeblood
does not seem to be enough
to make the soil fertile for you

Once again I must be separate
Once again I must grow my own garden
Gather my own treasures
Intentionally search them out from the rocky crevices
Wade through Mysteries
Allow a stream of tenderness to flow from my fingertips
And remember, remember
all the things that give me life
Even as I retain the awareness
that piece by piece
you are casting yours away

First to the Priests

sunrise1

Fully alert
in the darkness of night
the Burning Bush alive in His Heart
relentless
added to this
the propulsion of youth
He cannot wait for His Body to catch up
He cannot wait for the ripening of time
the knights must be awakened

She finds Him there
casting Light among the shadows
illuminating the paths of His dreams
but they are drowsy
and succumb to sleep
complacency squelching the urgency
to ride forth

Time erodes
and darkness drugs the Earth

She sees His Light
bursting from every tabernacle
begging to be recognized
longing to be embraced
straining to be unleashed
the trickled response
is enough to make Her weep

Wake up! Wake up!
She calls to the knights
those guardians of the Flame
The Dream is alive!
The broken Body is enough for all
Just open your eyes
and breathe

Now She waits
and the world waits
to see if the knights will catch fire
to see if they will propel
a global Revolution of Love
where the brilliant vibrancy
of a colossal blaze of souls
will reflexively initiate
an imminent and glorious rising
of the Son

Kaleidoscope

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Colours
with a complexity of patterns
pausing for you to contemplate
and then changing
sometimes with a slight shift
sometimes in a dramatic disruption
disorienting
demanding your focus
your engagement
it is impossible to remain unaltered
the colours speak to you
and then realign
you can close your eyes
but not for long
as the key to your internal survival
is choosing to behold the Light
and perceiving how it enlivens the colours
you must seek out the Beauty
step forth into Wonder
even if what initially appears as chaos
breaks your heart

Transformative Horizons

wallpaper_doris_mantair_04_1600

Coming out of hibernation
I long to create…
a garden

And the rhythm of creating the garden
pulls me further and further
out of hibernation

Colours within me
colours all around me
life beckoning life

All of us connected
all of us pulsing
as we reach up and allow ourselves to be kissed
by the Sun

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