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Between heaven and hell

I heard the voices of my ancestors

Rising up and wondering if their lives 

Still had any worth beyond the veil.

I listened to their cries as shame

Ripped through fragments of their souls.

Fatigued from their self pity,

I tore apart the realms in search of every grace

Afforded to them from lifetimes of learning

And lay every speck of light at their feet.

I screamed at them to open their eyes and their hearts.

I shook their spirits until they could feel

How my own unworthiness was healed 

From all the strength and love they gave to me.

She held on so tightly

In wanting to become

Someone other than who she was

That she forgot pieces of herself

That were trying to move on

Were actually gifts from God

Ready to be set free

So that in becoming

The holding on and letting go

Were a love affair destined by the universe

To mold her into whom she was ready to be.

The moment you think you have ‘worked through it all’,

the silence will no longer be silent.

It will arise with uncertainty and ask the questions you have been afraid to answer.

The questions that erupt into a cycle of isolation, spiraling heart and mind into oblivion,

creating chaos that longs to be justified.

The silence needs nothing from you.

It is you who need its tenderness amidst the chaos, its comfort amidst the grief, its grace amidst the confusion.

The silence never left you.

You escaped from it much of your life,

wandering through deserts in search of yourself.

Only to return to the same place you started from.

My how long a journey you made,

in struggling more than you needed to.

Time did not exist before the gods.

A spiral universe above and below

Where humans were once enchanted between the realms

Dancing amidst fairies and gnomes

Dieities and giants

Penetrating spirit

Taking from the Holy Grail its source of nourishment

To continue frolicking with innocence

Neither fire nor ice

Serpents or angels

Could reveal a destiny so great

That humans would remember

The portal from which they came.

The longing for ancient ritual

Is steeped in our blood

We become the guardians of one another

In other worlds

But in middle earth

We are tainted by a darkness

That we ignited ourselves.

Oh to be set free once again

Touched an innocence immersed

In those same healing waters

The gods swam in.

Your destiny.

Your choice.

My Name is Forgiveness

“How long can you endure?”

At my darkest hour, I heard a voice coming from the flame.

That slippery slope of emotional turmoil where the burdening question of existence perpetuates that longing for some sense of relief.

I turned around and searched everywhere for the inquisitor.

Who had the audacity to challenge the facade of my integrity?

“How long can you endure?”

My pulsating heartbeat could be heard across dimensions.

“Who are you?”

My anger swirled and descended to the earth beneath me.

“You know who I am. I have followed you for lifetimes.

Never more than one step behind you.

You have thought me the bane of your existence.

But I have and will always be your greatest hope, your greatest salvation.”

I pulled back, bewildered by the voice.

“I still don’t know who you are. Why don’t you come out and show yourself!”

“I’ve never hidden from you. You just refuse to see me for who I am, who you are, and for what we can become together.

I’ve told you my name a thousand times over, but your heart could never hear me. Your mind would never listen. Your spirit would never receive.”

Exhausted, with what little strength I had left I shifted my gaze to the ethers.

“I don’t understand. You seem to think you know about me, as though we’ve met before. Please, can you just tell me your name?”

There was this pause. I swear I could hear the entire universe in one breath.

“Forgiveness. My name is forgiveness. And we have met before. In every lifetime, in every moment. I have walked by your side, carried you when you were too weak, strengthened you when you needed me most. You rarely like to admit it, but you do need me. The truth is, I need you too. My question remains the same. How long can you endure?”

I had no answer, I just lay frozen in my own conundrum.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m in no rush. Your story is my story. You actually can’t endure without me. But you can suffer more.

I hope you allow me the honor of mending your wounds. I couldn’t think of any other way I would want to spend the rest of my life. When you’re ready, all you have to do is look within. I’ll be here.”

My Name is Forgiveness

“How long can you endure?”

At my darkest hour, I heard a voice coming from the flame.

That slippery slope of emotional turmoil where the burdening question of existence perpetuates that longing for some sense of relief.

I turned around and searched everywhere for the inquisitor.

Who had the audacity to challenge the facade of my integrity?

“How long can you endure?”

My pulsating heartbeat could be heard across dimensions.

“Who are you?”

My anger swirled and descended to the earth beneath me.

“You know who I am. I have followed you for lifetimes.

Never more than one step behind you.

You have thought me the bane of your existence.

But I have and will always be your greatest hope, your greatest salvation.”

I pulled back, bewildered by the voice.

“I still don’t know who you are. Why don’t you come out and show yourself!”

“I’ve never hidden from you. You just refuse to see me for who I am, who you are, and for what we can become together.

I’ve told you my name a thousand times over, but your heart could never hear me. Your mind would never listen. Your spirit would never receive.”

Exhausted, with what little strength I had left I shifted my gaze to the ethers.

“I don’t understand. You seem to think you know about me, as though we’ve met before. Please, can you just tell me your name?”

There was this pause. I swear I could hear the entire universe in one breath.

“Forgiveness. My name is forgiveness. And we have met before. In every lifetime, in every moment. I have walked by your side, carried you when you were too weak, strengthened you when you needed me most. You rarely like to admit it, but you do need me. The truth is, I need you too. My question remains the same. How long can you endure?”

I had no answer, I just lay frozen in my own conundrum.

“I’ll wait for you. I’m in no rush. Your story is my story. You actually can’t endure without me. But you can suffer more without me.

I hope you allow me the honor of mending your wounds. I couldn’t think of any other way I would want to spend the rest of my life. When you’re ready, all you have to do is look within. I’ll be here.”

There are those who don’t find value in the ordinary

The unknown an impossible story to bear

The silence too frightening to witness

The grief too unyielding to hold

The Surrender needs to be gentle

A humble birth from ego to hero

Within your own duality

Your narrative born from the gods

Who kept you close to their bosom

Until your entrance into this realm

As you tiptoed through the trenches

With darkness reaching for your soul

Oh how lonely you felt

Wondering if you would ever find the light

The extraordinary radiance

Of a soul wanting to know itself completely.

Believing that it is capable of worthiness.

I wish you would understand

That all has always been safely tucked gently inside

Your heart this whole time.

You need not fear the ordinary, the unknown, the silence, 

Or the grief. You need not fear the surrender.

You just need to trust in yourself

And you will become the peace you are searching for.

She no longer feared her own medicine.

This nonverbal relationship

With intimacy once felt so threatening.

An awakening centuries unfolding

from chaos into more chaos

Until stillness was given its voice.

Its own right of passage and power

That it had long forgotten.

A freedom yearning to be met

With such authenticity

That her medicine became steeped

In such a strength

She was able to call it by its name.

And that name became sacred and

Shared only between her and the gods.

With each womb and each birth,

that medicine would be passed down

As the gods whispered into the hearts

Of each child waiting to be borne.

This is how a generation heals.

Do not be afraid to share your medicine

Once you no longer fear claiming it.

Your unworthiness becomes an altar

Laden with burdens from an ancestral past

Tears strolling down your cheeks

With each footprint on your path

Joy becomes unrecognizable 

As you feel responsible for the pain of others.

Who was it that taught you to live this way?

Freedom of self becomes an abandoned vision

That only mystics can obtain

The mountain too high to climb

The heart too heavy to forgive

Fragments of a life not lived strewn across the landscape

Of your inner humanity

Will your unworthiness be your only legacy?

Only you can decide.

Perhaps the precipice is not as steep as you think it is

Perhaps the tempest is merely a gentle rain cloud

Disguised as darkness

To test your faith

To make you believe that one step forward into the light

Worthiness waits to greet you.

I’ll be waiting there for you.

Weep no more my child

The emptiness which stirs

Beneath your bosom

Does not taunt you

Or hinder the breath

Of God that gives you life.

It softly asks

For your hand in marriage

To guide you to the light

Amidst the heaviness

Of your soul’s burdens.

It asks for nothing else

Than to be your strength

The whisper of grace

Revealing itself

Within each doubt

Or break of faith.

It knows the heavens

From which you came

This emptiness

So full of glory

You will only understand

Once you touch it deeply.

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