Storms

Boom, crack, hiss … 

the surface is washed 

branches are broken 

pathways are cleared 

connections are destroyed

new growth blossoms afterwards .

Sex is sacred

there is no more pure expression of self

belonging to ourselves first and foremost

who is chosen, matters as much the act

it can be an expression of self love 

without loving the other side, it will be less

seeking the whole expression is beautiful

some have been taken without consent 

it robs the self of identity and meaning 

there is always a path to true love

New

I am beautiful

I am kind 

I am a sensual creature 

I deserve love

say it again, and out loud

Enough

I listened to your dreams and made them my own,
I heard your cries and held you till they passed.

What was offered, was taken,
What was shared, is over.

Thoughts lead to expression,
Expression leads to action.

Your choices have been made,
Do not pretend I look kindly on them.

My actions are now my own,
My future is my own.

Righting the ship

Moments of rest and recovery arise,
They find us in moments of confusion.

Drifting through life can be missed,
Is the aim is to flow, first we must let go.

There cannot be creation without destruction,
A willingness to yang is needed to yin,
The sweeter the yin, the deeper the yang.

 

Flows

When they go high, we go low to find our way through.

There is a beautiful wisdom in understanding our paths and staying on them. We are built to want things, to yearn for what we do not have so that we find ourselves in-between that which is and could be.

Being aware of not having what we want gives us stability, noticing what we need to get what we want gives us wisdom and feeling discomfort with not having what we want gives us the energy to go get it.

Re-growth

Start again.

Feel what’s there and notice what’s gone,

Release the past, release the old to let it all drift,

Buried under layers of emotions and sensations,

Separate what was from what is,

Find yourself.

Seeing ghosts

Buried in snow drifts,
Deep in the forest,
They float on,
As spirits without a home.

They never leave,
Watching and yearning,
Dreaming of a release,
They scratch at their cage.

Forsaken parts of ourselves,
Releasing them releases us.

Our reflections look at us,
With our own eyes.

Ghosts in the mist

Duality is a beautiful thing,
A reflection reveals itself to itself.

The light of consciousness envelops,
The dark of subconscious obscures,
There is always light to balance out the dark.

Within the darkness of ourselves,
Reside the ghosts of unfelt emotions & thoughts,
Who become stronger with time and repression.

Acceptance and love relaxes us into who we are,
Tension and denial will only turn ghosts into demons.