Falling and Rising

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‘Sun And Moon Abstract Art’ by Sketchii Studio

The moon was unhappy.
Surrounded by stars,
and as beautiful as she was,
she felt different and alone,
and all of that was not all.

The stars poked fun at her;

they had things to say about her size,
and other bad things, her rise.
They took her light for granted;
it didn’t shine exactly like theirs.

The sun doesn’t trust anyone;
she won’t let you come close to her.
Stars only appear when she’s away now
’cause she’s fierce and very defensive,
but deep, deep, deep inside every sun
is the old half-moon groaning in pain,
and deep, deep inside every big, bright sun
is a full moon wanting to be loved.

The Priestess

The High Priestess (2018)

Painted by Kiarra Lynn Smith

The high priestess lives on her throne,
the wounded healer,
scarred to the bone.

Drenched in her own precious blood,
the tears she holds in                             
could make a flood.

The souls before her form a line,
her chants, the bread,
her music, the wine.

She closes her eyes to see and feel;
she was raised to serve,
uplifted to kneel.

Levitation

eaglee

You stay grounded when
you see things with your mind’s eye
from a higher perspective,
removing yourself from all things
to be present in everything.

3rd eye

Fighting Our Demons

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We start to fight our demons
when we stop fighting,
suppressing our emotions,
keeping our hurts in.
When we accept transformation,
and release our hearts for mending,
roll with the wheel of fortune,
and open our souls for healing.
When we accept the very truth that
each end is a new begining.

Today is Another Day

Grillo

Painted by Yusuf Grillo

Today is another day;
today is an other day.
Tomorrow will become yesterday,
a brand new yesterday,
if you don’t take new steps today.

Take four steps to grow,
take three steps to heal,
take two steps to love,
take a step to part ways
with today’s yesterday.

Thing 1 & Thing 2

Osun (Giseli Magalhães)

Thing 1 was not thirsty,
but I offered him a drink.
He drank till my cup was empty,
and threw me in me to sink.

I struggled back to shore,
you can bet that I was sore,
but Thing 2 grabbed my finger,
and told me his heart was pure.

The river of love is full again,
the river of love is me,
but Thing 2 is still famished,
’cause my cup was smashed at sea.

So tell me, ìyá mi ‘Kojú,
help me make my strength from you. 
How do I tell me that Thing 1
is all but nothing like Thing 2?

Chiron-ke

Yusuf Grillo

I want love,
I ask for love,
but when Mother Earth offers it to me,
I shake my head from side to side.

Think of me as a child;
think of me as a pregnant woman.

I am in pain;
I am pregnant.
I bear and carry my hurt
like an unborn child
in my heart’s womb.

No one can deliver this child;
no one except me.
No one but me
can deliver my self,
can deliver me from my self,
but I don’t know how to,

or is it that I don’t want to?

I can’t.  

I’m a pregnant midwife
who delivers people’s pain-children
but walks around with her own
still-born still in her.

No one can deliver this child;
no one except me.
No one but me
can deliver my self,
deliver me from my self,
but I don’t know how to,

or is it that I don’t want to?

Can I?

Think of me as a child;
think of me as a pregnant woman.
I’d prefer it if you do

not think of me at all. 

Stages of Life

Arodan Image

Things do not end
because they weren’t meant to be,
but because they were.
Predestined,
planned,
timed,
like a stage play,
to be seen,
to be experienced,
to be felt,
to be learnt from.

As soon as the play is done,
and the end begins,
actors should take front-row seats
and watch their own work-
what they could have done better,
what they should do and not do
in the next play,
as opposed to regretting
that they took part in it
in the first place,
as awkward as it may seem,
as much as it may hurt.

I Don’t Make Law-ve

D6

I don’t want wings
that’ll just look good on me;
I’ll only wear wings
if they let me fly.

I don’t want wings
that’ll just put eyes on me;
I’d rather die twice
than live a lie.

Freedomination

Birdy

“The Heart of a Bird” by Colette Wirz Nauke

In your quest for freedom,
if you must fill your wings with anything,
or decorate your wings,
decorate them with feathers,
not gold.

With gold, other birds will stop by,
and admire your beauty,
and aspire to be like you,
and worship the ground beneath your feet.

The day of the storm will come,
the day of the storm is coming,
and on that day,
with extra feathers,
you will fly very quickly to safety.

The day of the storm will come,
the day of the storm is coming,
and on that day,
with golden, swollen wings,
your worshippers will leave you,
the rain will catch up with you,
and beat you till you can barely breathe.