Evoked upon the dark moon. As scorpions crawl at my feet. Naked on honey suckle sweetness, I can finally see your beauty. Audacity rebelling against acculturation. Sexuality dripping like nectar, roaring with lively bliss; you were born to scorch archetypes– appearing from the abyss.
A cry of shame rings out from my rib cage. Fear for the darkness of my potential. You slash away guilt. My throat burns with truth. Poisons rise into my gut. Palms fall open, asking “what?”
The hardened pelvis releases. The hips pinch then quake. A flood of emotions, I’d blindly stored away–now surges awake. The brain like a theatre, flashing the journey thus far. “Strike the match,” you call from beyond.
I open my legs like butterfly wings. A flame rests in my left palm. It glows green, as I offer it love. “Dear flame, guide me to let go of what is no longer.” Imagining the self-hatred, I see it hiding within. I stir it from frozen spaces; pulling it out through the palm of my hand. The flame vibrates wildly bright. I seek shame next. Every exhale drives it out from deeper heart tissues. My spine lets air between each vertebra. No longer do I feel my issues.
As the doubt drains, the orb pulses brighter. My ears feel unclogged, like doubt is a ball of wax. Without doubt the fear drains free. The heart screeches in pain. “What did you mean?” I see them crowding around me, shouting “Get the fuck out! Fall in line! Learn to behave!”
But this time I feel no need to belong. The draining fear leaves a void. Anger rises, ready to be raw. “I honor you anger, no longer will I shun you from my sight. I place the wild orb on the ground. It’s flames begin to dance, rippling with might.
“Toss it all in.” Whispers my heart, the voice of a lost friend. Tears begin to fall. I see labels like worn out cloaks, heavy and unbefitting. Burdens I no longer wish to carry.
I drag them free from under the surface. Peeling them away like dead skins. Slut, bitch, evil, sinner, unworthy, waste of life–I toss them into the fire. They burn, crackle, and pop. I see times of petrification. Visions disintegrate, fragmented by light and dissolving.
Pain turns to ashes, the mind is silent. Wholeness feels like a cloud. Weightless I am able to float down into the heart. Soft and tender like the womb; the beat melts away understanding, releasing a river of golden light. Tempering the fire, and saturating the orb. A presence of peace is drawn forth. Nothing holds meaning over soul. The golden light alchemizes the fire, revealing a crystal at its core. Placed in my left palm, it’s energies are absorbed.
Love penetrates the depth of my heart. Pours into the void. Instead of filling, the void expands with potential. Hope pours through the palm. Winding through the body, flickering it on. I belong here. The pain serves a purpose. My shattering feels soft. The crystal glows abundantly with compassion. I feel connected to ants, to trees, to moon, to you, to me. To all we don’t know.
Never alone at home within. Sitting to witness the dance of atoms. Where did they all come from? Perhaps the banana slug formed from the same star’s dust as I? If energy is neither created nor destroyed, than might this not be our first time? With past and future tumbling infinitely in either direction. Only here, can we be now.
Maybe we’ve lived lifetimes upon other planets, in other galaxies, in other universes, in far out distant space. Perhaps nothing I’ve been holding onto will follow beyond. So why carry it here?
Awoken with curiosity. The pressure has been relieved. The dead rests in peaceful ashes. In remnants of rising smoke I see the shadow of a phoenix. I close my palm around the crystal. Experiencing gratitude and wisdom within the paradox of the unknown. I am one small witness, but I feel magically mighty full.
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Originally published in Juste Milieu Summer Issue No 1
Lilac Laced Love 