blocked 🚫
mere months
after The Transition
of he who was The Force
keeping family afloat,
tethered,
ever so delicately.
without him,
shedding,
the masks came off,
niceties abandoned.
“Love” disintegrated
to the point of blocking 🚫
take nothing personally.
still, sad,
feels abrasive,
like a middle finger 🖕
borne of deep hurt
a sense of disrespect,
expectations unmet.
The Circle 🔵 dwindling
by death
and, now, blocks 🚫
everything
so tender,
tenuous,
ephemeral.
Suddenly,
left eye
redness,
pain,
intense light sensitivity.
oh no, uveitis, again?
so soon?
sadness born of
a knowingness.
“I did this.”
relentlessly
disrespectfully
pushed and pushed,
ignored Body’s
implore
to stop,
subtract.
Then the dream
set in another time –
childhood.
garbage overflowing,
unattended
and yet,
still present.
a father
feeding a mother,
their daughter
holding space
for others.
The next day,
head slammed
into metal.
where?
right above
the healing
left eye!
did the brain move?
was some semblance
of sense knocked into
the head, a subtle
and much-needed,
shifting of consciousness?
A few days later:
morning, bore witness
to a wake of vultures
tearing into flesh.
evening, a searing ache
in the middle of the head,
eyes burning,
bedridden.
relief, only from
sleep –
stop,
subtract.
“You go deep,”
they said,
surprised.
“Yes!”
I replied.
They weren’t ready
for My Depth.
I stay true.
There is a they
waiting
for me.
“How is Guirlaine?”
He, the CEO,
asked
her,
who formerly
engaged
weekly
with Guirlaine.
He was to do so now.
But He
seemingly
forgot
about
Guirlaine,
allowing her to
drift,
dis-engage,
become
more and more
untethered,
free
to explore
other realms & possibilities,
to consider
Thresholds & Gates,
and play in
The Liminal.
All is well.
All in Divine Order.
what will I see
flash before my eyes
as Spirit leaves this physical
encasement?
what memories are so seminal
on this Journey,
so seared in Consciousness
as to be worthy of recollection
before the last exhalation?
have I experienced
such moments
yet?
maybe the death of my father –
that wailing scene?
or sitting with my beloved
grandmother on her last days?
or memories of bliss-full times
spent alone
in The Woods
basking in The Magnificence
and Oneness 🙏?
maybe going way back
to before
departure from the womb,
crawling up to my mother’s Heart,
to what was known, safe, soothing.
maybe there’ll be images with my first Love,
hand in hand – touching, stroking, desperately reaching?
or my first trip abroad –
the fulfillment of my wildest dream?
no idea
what will flash
before my eyes
leaving this Realm.
doesn’t matter,
truly Grateful 🙏
for it all!
I forgot about you,
kidnapped
“living” underground
for years
amid “strangers” –
fellow humans
traumatized
traumatizing
using you
as mere means to a bitter end
playing a destructive game
of cat & mouse
in an endless cycle of
tit for tat.
I forgot about you
focused on the thousands
above ground
having their ground
children
lives
shattered to pieces
relentlessly
by the traumatized
traumatizing.
I could see them.
I couldn’t see you.
Out of sight,
Out of Heart,
I learned
about self –
humbled,
horrified,
human.
can there be
True Peace
where there is
no re-pair
after harms
and ruptures,
no amends made,
no truths expressed
nor apologies extended
for sustained reconciliation?
this feels like
seeds being sowed
that may
ultimately reap
more violence
more trauma
more broken 💔 ness
more hatred and
sense-less destruction.
can there ever be
True Peace
where The Feminine voice
is left out,
where Love has been
forgotten
and diplomacy severely
abandoned,
where toxic masculinity
reigns
and unbridled arrogance
pats itself on the back?
how to cultivate
True Peace
in the midst of blatant
inequality,
where tenderness
and care
are nowhere
and domination
is centered?
do we even know what
True Peace
is
any longer?
have we ever?
what is the Sacred Work
I am to do
being
fully
here
now –
tired
grief-strickened
stunned
a tad numbed?
what can I offer
from “my” heArt
to “yours”?
the breath?
mere air?
yes, deep breathing
inhaling,
smelling
like the way of a baby,
taking It all
in and down
to the belly
to the Fire 🔥
hold It there
gently witness
trans-formation.
At the appointed time,
exhale
re-lease
birth
slowly
intentionally
Freshness
something new
something
needed
urgently
now!
This is what
I am
to do.
where does un-certainty
reside in me?
no clarity
here
now.
what color is it,
this tension of un-certainty ?
not sure.
perhaps, butterscotch,
a merging of orange with yellow,
maybe a clue?
the Sacral, to feel,
or solar plexus’ mandate to do?
to only feel
and not to do?
surrender
submerged
feel the body
trans-form
dis-solve
flow
like the sacral waters
re-lease this Soul.
an explosion!
a dismantling of perceived power,
a dramatic testament to impending change.
life cannot be contained,
controlled,
doled out in calculated bits
to a privileged few.
all this witnessed
through the wall of glass.
time ending for those over there –
the workers –
nearer to the raging Fire 🔥
and billowing towers of toxic smoke.
the possibility of extended time
and, perhaps, lessons,
for those over here,
a bit farther away –
the family of consumers
living in the house 🏠
with the wall of glass.
burgeoninc 