unraveled,
she became completely
undone.
the difference this time:
she allowed herself to be
compassionately
witnessed,
and that
made all
the difference. 🙏
grief
sweetness
not enough
then
suddenly
too much!
something missing
what?
a yearning
for sweetness,
release
from discipline,
a tipping point
of sorts,
can no longer run
or hide
sadness
disappointment
fear?
of what?
barely space
between internal stimulus
and its well-trodden response.
a mere taste
then
suddenly
the deluuge,
surrendering to the waterfall.
a deep
familiar
insatiable
hunger
for sweetness
presence
purpose
excitement
reasons
any
to be
here
now.
Message Blocking is Active
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.
True Peace
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?
sacred work
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.
been here before
this place,
these people,
those words,
that feeling,
been here before.
The Benevolent Universe
slowly closing a door,
ushering in
something unfamiliar
far beyond my
imagination –
another assignment
an opportunity
to learn
to grow
to contribute
and explore
pieces of me
never seen before.
anticipation clasps the hand
of trepidation,
resistance gradually gives way
to acceptance
of a Journey
marked by the continuous
making
and then
the breaking
of bonds.
an activation
just a few days ago,
a conversation ends,
powerful emotions swelled,
old wounds
ripped
re-opened,
breathing
constricted,
Earth under feet
no longer –
shifted,
cracked,
trembled.
oh no,
not again!
The Protectors
came to The Door –
not safe,
run away,
disengage!
Mother is Husband
“I am your husband,”
said The Mother
to The Daughter.
Not entirely an untruth,
as Mother dwells in household
with her eldest Daughter.
They share expenses
and secrets.
They are each other’s “somebody”
the unspoken priority,
the new nuclear family,
the what remains
when what was The Core
splinters off
never to return.
the brink
what have we become?
un-done
dis-embodied
dis-membered
fear-full
looking
here then there
longing
for a time
that never was
desperate
for salvation
from the outside
un-able to go
in
down
and way back
to lineage
repressed
depressed
lonely
confused
thankfully 🙏
a few
awakened
just enough
perhaps
to save us all from
The Brink
Grieve Well
there will always be
reasons to Grieve:
some pain
some joy
a passing
transition
transformation;
something is
birthed
unfamiliar
uncomfortable
new.
what was known,
no longer is.
there is loss,
an opportunity to grieve
to metabolize grief
to break it down to digestible pieces
and reconfigure into
gratitude
acceptance
presence
wisdom
courage
a remembrance that no thing stays the same.
change, death –
both seen and unseen –
is constant.
Grieve well
let go
so as to fully
let in
through
out.
No blockages
no limitations.
What remains?
spaciousness
for manifestations.
burgeoninc 