The Way Through

We’re tuning in together across
the planet, deliberate, setting

aside our jaded lies. We’ve treaded
water, gasping and choking, trying

to heal ourselves in the poisoned
system, rising and falling alone.

Throbbing wounds from unexpected
splinters: we do not rush to kill

the pain. Instead we witness the
longing for death, trace its descent

through our lineage, the millennia
a tangled knot we cannot integrate.

Setting aside our individual triggered
drama to illuminate our collective

trauma. Each of us a fractal symptom.
Summon our skilled weavers. Illuminate

the net which binds us, blindly grasping
until we let go. The tapestry emerges

familiar and strange: our wounded
ancestors’ intricate scenes of carnage,

victim and perpetrator dances too horrifying
to love. Release the story. See the spin.

What breathes through us, what moves our
passionate living? Opening our vulnerable

hearts now, we sing what is. Resistance
chorus urges us to act. The future

clamors: repeat the unexamined past
fast. And still we sit, allowing

the tightly held terrors. Safe now
in our warm regard. In this relational

space we create entirely new
breathing what is in the way.

Inspired by: Descent, Jaded, Death and Splinter. and the Collective Trauma Summit going on this week (it’s free and it’s liberating!)

Perspective Change

“Fire is the Sun unwinding from the tree’s log.”~R. Buckminster Fuller

Never forget that you are one of a kind. Never forget that if there weren’t any need for you in all your uniqueness to be on this earth, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. And never forget, no matter how overwhelming life’s challenges and problems seem to be, that one person can make a difference in the world. In fact, it is always because of one person that all the changes that matter in the world come about. So be that one person.~R. Buckminster Fuller

At sunsight we suffer a sea change,
paint in grays in the turning

we call dawn. From moonlight’s shimmer
of silvery waters, a palette inspired

by dark, splashed gently with
white and moody mauve, deepest

blues touching taupes and
licking lavender. A tiny

yellow drop. None of the pinks suit
chic-subtle in monochrome.

The sun is film-noir whispers
veiled disinterest. The I who once

chased those golden waves to paradise
would drown in a platitude of mourn.

In my deep healing torsion today, I spin
away from pseudo-science manipulations,

catch light beautifully warm and cool.
A new world arises. We reflect connections.

Sumptuous, velvety fog plays
well with others, celebrating we.

Inspired by: Suit, Dawn, Chic and Platitude and a foggy morning that fills me with so much gratitude, inspiration and a true knowing we can effect change!