Mistaken Identity


Karma is a word to describe how we, in order to survive, push part of life out and one day it will come back, and it needs to be processed.~Thomas Hubl

I missed that window of flow
the origin of the day

when I manage to get out
of the way for messages—

I read them later, surprised.
Waking just before five, I

closed my eyes fatigued, today
aligned all my fragmented

pieces into a circle
of intentional light. Soothed,

drifting. It’s hours later
and I sputter past beliefs

–surely poems only rise
under strict conditions. Three

vultures hover over, see
what my integrative rest

has exposed. Difficulties
are my way and may feed you

if I can say with truth, they
are my lens. Am I willing

to release my clutched story
sliding out of narratives

I was born to, as it has
always been? The cleanup crew

drafts past. No detritus here
and now. The shards I tried to

forsake return, sparkle in
this illuminated space

bad girl, for shame, what’s wrong with
you, do you want a spanking?

welcomed finally into
a new emerging wholeness.

Inspired by: Sputter, Manage, Origin and Mistake.

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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