Seeking My Father

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If the man who raised me
the man who starved me
who was ashamed to acknowledge me as his daughter
and failed me in his brokenness
is not my real father
and God is
then I need to discover the identity of God the Father
and what that means
in terms of who I am

He is the Father of Lights
the Generator of Poetry
He is strong and protective
perceptive of my feminine heart
He has no wish to harm me
He feeds me with the best of all Food
His voice resonates through the quantum fields of my being
He is good
He is the Author of Life
He loves me with a fierce tenderness

And I am His daughter
I come from Him
which means that my worth
and my identity
flow from my true Father

“Who Do You Say That I Am?”

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Who do you say that I am:
someone who holds you back,
or the encouragement that calls you forth?

Who do you say that I am:
the condemnation in the eyes of some who claim to know me,
or a lover who is dazzled by your entire being?

Who do you say that I am:
a set of formulas that can be confined to rigid boxes,
or a person who breathes freely in areas you are only beginning to imagine?

Do not sidestep the question
because who you say that I am
has a direct correlation
with who you say that you are
and with the options that you are able to perceive
for what you might become.

Self-Assurances

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It’s O.K.
I don’t have to keep trying to save them

It’s O.K.
They’re adults and they have made their own decisions

It’s O.K.
I believe the girl I was once was and I will protect her

It’s O.K.
I don’t have to be stuck in analyzing death when there is so much life calling to me

It’s O.K.
I am free to create

It’s O.K.
I am free to give and to embrace and to live passionately from my heart

It’s O.K.
I am free to be me

Dichotomy

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Seeing what I am
Seeing what I need
Seeing that it doesn’t line up
With what those around me expect me to be
And grieving the parts of myself that are being sacrificed
As I struggle to straddle the tension

In the Rush to Become

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Running to something
running to become something
it involves the entirety of who you are
past yoked to present
a full commitment
burning lungs
charged with oxygen-rich air
all of the passion
all of the pain
are needed to build the momentum
to burst through boundaries
soar while grounded
gifting you with bearing witness
to newly emerging
internal and external landscapes

Restless Tigress

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I’m restless
I want something to sink my teeth into
grapple with
gnaw on
savour
work and re-work
explore every subtle taste and nuance
and do it again
until I’ve drained it dry
left my mark
learned all that I can
and am fully nourished

But everything that is available to me
all that I try biting into
turns to dust in my mouth
disintegrates
leaving me agitated
discontented
and wondering if there is something wrong with me
for not being satisfied with what I have
or if maybe I’m looking in the wrong places
or perhaps this is a time of famine
and there is simply no food to be had

Tossed About

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A wish is made
a breath is blown
and like dandelion seeds
we are tossed about invisible currents
of neurochemicals
hormones
changes in barometric pressure
sunlight and moonlight
alongside people who can spin us around
without a moment’s notice

Will we remember the wish
the initial burst of inspiration
Will we root and transform
and metamorphose enough to launch new dreams
Or will we keep drifting
captive passengers flung by breezes
but still beholding wonders
we had never imagined

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