The Spell is Broken

*Written while sitting in an oak tree.  For a man, I once knew as a boy*

 

The Spell is Broken (On Earning Your Metal)

 

That you are angry, feeling

Emotive

That is a flash point in the dark

A spark

Of life

Beating, resilient, determined

A gasp when there could have been

Silence

 

Your story is your apothecary,

Contained potentiality

Worth sharing as

Rogue medicine

To heal, to be healed

To be heard

 

A resurrection call to self,

Wrest from your undoing,

To others, also

Bereft, unmoored.

Garnered from your initiation into the liminal

The in-between,

Place of the Wise, the Seers, the Way-finders,

Inured in grit, grime, substance

 

To feel is a creative, intentional act

To breathe is a creative, intentional act

Nurturing that spark,

Carrying life forward.

Choice of courage and vulnerability

Over

Defeat, demise

Death

 

You are alive,

a-life,

worth of audition (hearing),

observation (seeing),

Knowing.

You are witnessed

Breathing that spark, that life

Once again into flame

 

May these words be a blessing for you

Know that you are valued

Know that you are sentient to love

Know that you are safe as you

Crawl, limp, walk, run

To the New Way that beckons you

Know that you possess the Happily Ever Afters

May you, with time, once again

Burn

 

…….……………………………..

Written by Dr. Allison Mitch, PT (DPT)

RYT 500, reiki master

Contact me at wildwomaninthesuburbs@gmail.com

Please do not copy this material.  All writing is copyright protected.