In the rarefied air after sickness/every poison distinct harsh thickness/so be wary, grounded and aligned/as I show up, canary in the mine./Bluebirds keep returning to their birthbox/invading house sparrow dives in and mocks./I wonder why they stay, locked ancestral/patterns simple imperatives: nests will/be best here. Back in my family home/where every slipshod deviation poem/inspires, the castigation is severe,/the burning wrath of generations sear/yet I must step into the flames. My way/is through. A life anonymous won’t do./When standing in the light, be sure the dark/is summoned. All the open wounds will mark/the entry I create. And though the hate,/the bitterness, the ire surrounds me, fire/channeled from all the unsettled places/bursts into now, still I open love’s spaces.
Inspired by: Anonymous, Burn, Simple and Slipshod. Is anyone else having difficulties with the free WordPress editor? I have this big black box halfway down my page and can’t enter text there. And preview says my blocks have encountered an error.
The Redwing Blackbird prompts you to try to be the non-judgmental, unconditionally accepting force that provides balance, grounding, and a haven for those experiencing change. Do not participate in the drama – merely be there for them.
Growing light dispels illusions, startles then the new perception sinks in. Portals open when least expected. I’m rejected by my brothers, disrespected. It’s all
a part of the connected field. Inject fear and scorn. Nincompoop, fool, lunatic name calling, no discourse, laconic shtick masked by a jocularity. The sick
exposed by a quick wit. I bide my time, deflect the barbed arrows hate seems to fling. After all, love and compassion will bring the hope of reconciling anything.