Can you feel the dirt on you?
Except, beneath your feet….
Words that stick and wound?
Except, from love, life fully expressed and explored…..
There’s no fault here…
Except, deep feeling and engaging….
Absence of presence, connection denied or distorted….
We are all within the flow truly, a remembrance….
Body used as a weapon against soul without permission?
Reclaim and empower….
Go with a gentle and kind touch where possible….
Or rage and cry, as needed…. safely.
Body used as a weapon against soul with permission?
Reclaim and empower…
Go with a gentle and kind touch where possible…
Or rage and cry, as needed….. safely.
Hurt, translator of heart…
It’s strength and capacity….to walk on.
Injoyment, translator of heart…
It’s strength and capacity…..to feel on.
Your reserves are beautifull, wild and untamed.
Name and reclaim them….
Shame doesn’t own you,
Invoker of an aspect, who lies with your wounds….
Offers them reflected like a gash….a 3rd degree burn…
Allow the mending in…..
In remembrance of the child….
In remembrance of the elder…
Those within….
Those without…
Your shame is a messenger….
Name it, write it out in exquisite calligraphy, or song….
In whatever form, send it off upon a body of water with a blessing.
Farewell its companionship…..
Live on….embrace….
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