Powerlessness rising with each flame.

A scorched earth crying

for anything holy to comfort its tears

Trembling lungs gasping for air

In a sea of purgatory and smoke

A fire with no boundaries

As it contemplates its existence

A fury that recreates itself 

Until the unknown 

Has nowhere to turn.

The sounds of chaos like shards of glass

Tearing away at any semblance of safety.

The thought of such intense emptiness

Amidst the landscape of an identity

Which has sheltered our souls.

The graves are not done being dug,

Death has not even reached its pinnacle.

But we have one thing the fire does not

We have each other

We have the whispers of prayers that are carrying

themselves across continents

Between a multitude of generations

And from angels above.

We have hope

That no flame can destroy

And a faith that will unite

Every broken heart bearing witness to this devastation.

Sending our love to California!

Where every wilderness unimaginable

Earths itself in silence until awakened

By a hunger only recognized by the gods.

What has withered away is nothing more

Than a loneliness yearning

To confess its sins to a heart

Emblazoned by love.

My wilderness whispers

each time it sees the sun.

Anointed by its radiance,

prostrating itself before a kingdom unknown.

A self gently unwinding into tenderness

Slowly making peace with

A life half lived

Waiting for communion

With a heaven within and beyond.

Solitude never looked so beautiful.

You become your own home dear child.

Giving birth amidst the chaos,

Ensconced in every landscape plundered

By multifaceted wounds from every dimension.

You’ve mastered the art of breathing in the darkness.

Haven’t you?

Reaching for any earthen holiness

To hold you tightly against the ravages of time

Waiting in earnest to walk with a God

You have only dreamed of meeting.

A God to guide you during every labor pain

Life has given you

Do you trust enough to rise from the ashes

Or let them engulf you?

Keeping still can make you feel like warrior or prey

But giving birth is the only choice

Afforded your soul in this very moment

Even when physical death is imminent.

Oh the life that humbly awaits you

The home that you crave has nestled itself

Inside you all this time

Waiting for drenching tears of joy

As you breathe faith into your lungs

For the very first time

Ever.

Welcome home my love, welcome home.

Happy New Year 2025!

Shepherding each other toward a world of light,

The littlest of joys sneak upon us

With such merriment

That we are cradled in wonder

From spirit to soul.

Oh how the child within us

Remembers with pure innocence

The magic of celebration

Of holiness dancing upon our hearts.

How we dreamed of more light

Until we could no longer fathom being separated from love.

Christmas….yes Christmas….

The sun will whisper its longest prayer to our ancestors.

It’s rays will spiral into fractals of grace, releasing us from forms of old. Both master and servant will yield to the unknown power of the Solstice.

There will be a moment for both humans and spirits to dwell in the house of the gods, both the powerful and the powerless, the wise and the ignorant, the just and the unjust.

The Solstice renders mercy, so much so that the earth weeps in ecstasy. Weaved within compassion, this portal, this reunion of parallel realities in linear time where God’s handiwork of creation kisses your cheek with warm tender lips leaving your heart open to receiving.

The sun’s prayer will change us all.

Forever.

May the powers of this Solstice Bless you.

Our landscape and emotional architecture protects us from a pain which is greater than any individual wound can carry.

Our landscape is interwoven, over time, with emotions so visceral and raw that even our ancestors from centuries past can hear us crying. And tears have been shed, especially these last few years. Our stories have changed because we have changed. How could we not? We have been reincarnated a thousand times in the bodies in which we live as a consequence of the major shifting and collective trauma that has unfolded before and within us. We have all been touched by it these last few years in some way. Our collective duality has transformed into a single testament to life, a single sacrament towards struggle, a single prayer towards love. And what are we to do with this new found intimacy once we realize we are at the edge of the Divine precipice?

You breathe into it. So deeply and profoundly that all the lives around you depend upon it, not just your own. You breathe loudly until it echoes into the canyons of souls awaiting redemption and understanding. You breathe incessantly until your breath becomes the breath of God.

Thinking God would love me more

Estranged from The Divine

Sheltering amidst the graves of my ancestors

For centuries before I asked

What did I have to prove?

There is no shame in darkness

Or the abyss that accompanies

The path.

The splendor of every tear

The magnificence of every wound

Do not be afraid to caress

The waters from which you ascended

The underworld from which you healed

And the light you so richly deserve.

Standing there amidst the pines

Whose needle like leaves ensconced

His powerful stature.

Unsure of the path between He and I,

I whispered sweet nothings into the ethers

Trembling as I tip-toed through the brush

Trying to anticipate His every move

Undulating sweat pouring forth

From my body,

Hands clenched in fervent prayer,

I drew closer to this ominous figure

Whose light and darkness

Confounded my soul since ever I could remember.

He grabbed me with such an intensity

I fell silent as though the beat of my heart

Dissipated into the abyss.

I gathered what courage I could and looked

deeply into His eyes.

Unable to utter a word, tears strolled down my cheeks.

I didn’t know why I was there

Or why He was there for that matter.

Wanting to escape into the shelter of those trees

His mighty arms embraced me.

“I love you. I love you, I love you.”

Flabbergasted, I stared into death’s eyes again.

“I love you,” He said with such a radiant warmth

That I was able to feel my heartbeat again.

A softness enveloped the space between us

I was no longer afraid of Him

No longer afraid of death

And no longer afraid of the path between us.

Laura Aversano

By grace. An impoverished spirit

beset by the incessant questioning as to

Whether or not you are a worthy child of God.

You have been invited into His heart

Many a time, wandering aimlessly 

Amidst your own power struggles. 

The innate desire for connection,

To both a light and a darkness

You still cannot comprehend.

Why is it that you still wander so?

The road will never be clear.

You will never be certain of who you think you are.

Your humanity still unraveling itself to meet God at

Every threshold. 

There really is nowhere to escape

Except into the light from which you came.

Womb deemed barren

By centuries of confusion and despair

Where love and hate diffuse themselves

Amidst the sun and stars

And a sullen earth pleads for a gentler heart to

Mend its wounds.

A simple moment of gratitude

Please bestow upon brethren

An intimacy you are frightened of

A loneliness shared amongst the many

Whose rebirth becomes your birth over and over again.

Your tears ache and pray with each movement

Of your soul

Beating as every light and every darkness

Passes through the very portal of your womb.

Forgive until those tears know kindness.

Man or woman

We all give birth to each other.

A paradise of gratitude

Breathing out the iniquities

Breathing in the grace.

One tear at a time.

A fertile awakening.

One that only gratitude can comprehend.