Where The Light Enters

“These beliefs can only be maintained by a rigorous determination not to think about them too hard.” ~ Caitlin Johnstone

The ancient seedling emerges

into the false light of

hoopla and hullaballoo.

Frail without the sun, I lose track

of what is real

in the clanging and banging

and singsong smears.

My true song crashing into

windows, my face plastered

to this blue flickering

screen, entranced and lost.

How do we rise in this dumbfounded

spring, support the tendrils

of our longing? Rooted into the mother

we must crack,

the egg no longer nourishment

now a cage to be broken.

We shudder away 

huddling in our hurt

comfortable in the old pain

blinking tears

in this necessary illumination.

Inspired by Longing, Seedling, Hoopla and Egg.

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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