It just rolled off my back
Into the belly, it snapped
At last
A path is forged
The sword, adorned
To slice through
The thick stew of voodoo
On this apocalypse carousel.
Knotted dreams
Broken seams
Stitching a patch over a holy gap.
Gaping mouth
Teeth pulled out
Saliva dripping into newfound stitching
Licking the wound
Stinging at high noon
Sun scorching,
The flower bloomed.
It’s painful to open to a heart that’s been broken
Enough has been spoken
Between the lines
I heard the signs the mind refused to ride on the Apocalypse carousel.
I wish it could be how i imagined I would see through a land where the rocking horses spun infinitely, in circles.
Alas, this is an apocalypse carousel.
I wanted to stay where i felt most at home
But the wind was too strong, i could not hold on .
I let myself be carried and so the nest was buried…
To my dismay, i could not stay on this apocalypse carousel.
Oh how i long to return to this safe landing deck
To rest my head upon the horse’s shiny neck..
Something told me to run
Something told me to fly
Something told me to quiet my heart and listen to my belly, just try..
I followed
I resisted
I begged
It persisted
Back and forth
Up and down
Apocalypse carousel going round and round and round and round and round…
But i feel so good here why would i leave?!
There’s a momentum, there’s comfort and safety, there is goodness.
Yes, but goodness is not the end.
It is the beginning, my friend..
Wild woman, there is more life to be felt, more magic to be dreamed, more passion to be expressed, more lands to be explored in between the seams!!
So unstitch these weaves,
Free the fabric!
See how it wants to be shaped in this new warm wind…
It’s painful to let go of what has held me so secure
It’s painful to let go of this nest, so pure…
And yet this pain is your guide, she said,
Let yourself be led,
Into these places lacking love
This is your power
These gaping holes
Where the horses’ poles
Sink down into unknown lands
Release your hand,
Release your grip
There is a portal opening soon
It’s coming , at high noon
This apocalypse carousel has reached it’s destination
At the landing of the sweet surrendered self
Lies a tender young flower opening, yearning to fulfill its destiny
To be forever kissed by the Sun*