12. Replacing What Was Lost
You have decolonized
your breath and blood,
cleared the humors
from your root,
the spaces you hold,
and hold you
sacred. Spring,
make winter a memory
with a zeal that makes
your inner child, higher
self sing through
your eyes, your eyes
that cannot see
themselves. Evident,
your uncanny glow
becomes when you
alchemize passion
into purpose. Before
the others begin
to catch your scent
on the wind, prepare
your network of nerves
for the bounty. Draw
from the Golden
Well of Infinity to
slake your soul’s thirst.
Wounded as you’ve kept
pace. Now, it is safe to be
present with the past,
integrating your herstory
in the shadow’s intimacy.
If you could love
your festered wounds
into scars
of remembrance,
inciting a rebellion
of astonished
gratitude
for the fuckery
it caused, who would
you be, then?
Prodigal to this
frequency, if you can
access bliss
more frequently, it
will serve the planet
well on this entropic
stroll toward the highest timeline.
Now, what might you
allow to enter into all
this delicious space you’ve
cleared? Sway. May
your inner song be
the soundtrack
of sovereignty. Flex
the miracle of new
thought rivers
as you apply
a fresh lens
to an old story.
To clear the path
for your vision
to join the realm
of intention, revisit
a neighborhood
of your rigidity,
a pattern
that adheres you.
Prune, snip,
smooth those
edges, soften
into the remembrance
of who you were
meant to be.
Visionary,
as you calculate
the incalculable
dance of risk
and reward, know
that you are already
the quantum leap
of your taking.
The Universe is in your whole
heart and needs you
to prove nothing to it.
Your third eye
a molotov cocktail
of divine visions,
your heart will light
the wick you fashion
out of your last
good grief.
Practice downward
dog to invert
your vision,
and allow the invisible
backpack to slide off
your shoulders
over your crown.
Shake it on down.
Revise an approach
in this draft of days--
you are the poem
writing itself, and
the plume.
Or perhaps
you are a star
fish, red
bejeweled surrender,
regenerating
from loss
as you progress
with intention, steadfast
in the abruptness
of life at the bottom
of a sea that few
will ever see.
