abortion –
such a tender,
personal
subject.
thought about
avoiding it altogether,
yet…
nothing is random.
this prompt,
perhaps,
a nudge
from The UnSeen Realms.
“go there,” They are whispering,
“where you fear to tread.
delve,
explore,
see what is brought to
your fore.”
Thy Will be done,
and so the plunge!
disoriented, at first,
breathless.
cold, murky waters
down here.
Silence
then suddenly –
searing pain,
sadness,
heaviness,
a dull ache
deep in the Heart –
some remembrances –
vague fragments –
from a past
or future
existence.
.
🙏
.
sadness
chronic
chronic fatigue
chronic dis-ease
no plans to go away
or for permanent relief
no cure
just management
by way of medicine.
what led to this chronic state
in the first place?
choices made against
memories suppressed
Individuality discouraged
dreams deferred
voices kept small
in a world 🌎 growing smaller
and louder?
where to contain it all
if not on the in-side?
the truth is…
the truth is,
Soul whispered to self,
life need not be so hard 🙏
you tend to complicate
and over personalize;
to see the dangers
and the darknesses
well before the
deLightful bits.
for you, the challenges
come quickly to the fore
dragging along with them
the heaviness
of not enough consciousness 🙏
Beloved, you need not relent,
keep spiraling
reciting the same ol’ script.
stop ✋️please
take slow, deep breaths.
recalibrate 🙏
.
.
fear
fear is a Gate.
to where?
another realm,
a clearer lens,
an unimaginable
reality,
a new face,
a chance to awaken
and break
destructive cycles,
generational patterns,
and long expired
unconscious
contracts.
a different vibration –
more stillness
on this Side,
bliss-full contemplation,
grounded regulation,
time for deep integration,
leading to
coherence and its twin, remembrance.
Here too,
the surrender and freedom
that beckon
sweet Peace
from its longtime captor, fear.
NO MORE
what will it take
to study war no more?
how many precious Lives;
how much devastation;
to shed delusions
of “you”
“me”
“they”
“we”?
what will it take
to See
inter-sectionality,
inter-dependence,
inter-being;
that I am Me
because you are You?
how to be finally relieved
of this exhausting
burden and cycle of trauma
seeded in
retaliation
revenge
reactivity
dis-regulation
and perceived “wins”?
where is the Space
for cultivation of
mind-full
measured
response?
what will it take to just
STOP ✋️
consciously chose
LOVE
in lieu of hate?
when do we decide
we walk the paths much less trodden –
forgiveness, Truth, reconciliation?
what spells and prayers might we invoke,
sacred concoctions prepared
to awaken from our stubborn slumber,
to re-member our shared humanity,
banish war from our vocabulary,
curate abiding Peace ✌️ 🙏 only ❤️
Crimson
Dreamed of Crimson
last night.
The color of blood,
a symbol of pain –
Crimson on the streets;
streaked in the snow;
steeped in the Ground.
crimson on our hands,
we reek of it,
blinded and choking on it.
redemption can only come by it.
Marie’s Lamentation
The Mother gave birth
To three daughters
None of whom
Would ever bore another.
Two of the daughters –
The eldest and the youngest
No longer carry their uterus.
Two surgeries-
The one, reluctant to wake from Anesthesia’s deep slumber.
The other, she almost did not recover.
The only daughter with all organs intact,
Chose to walk a childless path.
The Mother
is sad
heartbroken
grief-ridden.
Blaming herself
for the end of the family line.
No legacy, only perceived decline.
“Why”” she asks, wailing at her Fate.
“Did I
in Life
make a horrendous mistake?”
family
family –
what does this word mean, really?
blood relations?
friendships?
resonance across space & time?
from the Latin word famulus,
denoting servant;
same root as familiar,
yet family can feel
more distant than stranger.
our people, our tribe,
our ride or die –
we so easily say,
but behave
often
in an entirely different way.
loneliness continues to rise
worldwide.
perplexed, we ask why
given so much connectivity.
might it be
because we
forget
how to be
how to do
family?
“Autobiography begins with a sense of being alone. It is an orphan form.”
― John Berger
hold on
i am tired, Lord.
hold on.
hold on for what?
for Me.
i don’t know that i can…
you can; you have.
i am tired, Lord.
I know; hold on.
Iron
I will not carry your Iron,
I will no longer bear your Burdens,
I shall not strive to Redeem you,
I will only Thank you,
for being the vehicle of this birth,
the channel through which this River flowed
into illusion, destined to forget
and then
to remember.
I was to spread these Wings
perhaps wider than was allotted to you,
parents, who did what was your story to do,
to “love” as you were “loved”.
Alas, ancestral trauma,
we drag it from
generation to generation
iteration to iteration
until it dissipates,
withers,
is transformed
back into the Love
from which it
ultimately
came.
All trauma is golden
at its core –
was crafted in service
and protection.
Without it –
likely no ancestry,
no bloodlines,
no opportunity to
re-member;
no journey to take
back to where it all began…
I will not carry your Iron,
I will play
my Role
in melting it.
Inspired by and indebted to Mary Oliver’s stunning poem, Flare
“my mother, alas, alas,
did not always love her life,
heavier than iron it was
as she carried it in her arms, from room to room,”
burgeoninc 