I will not go quietly into the dawn of fresh spring rains
all I took of you will wail awhile as you lay down new grain
I do not make mistakes- every bone had to break
for you to finally see what held you in winter so long a time
you asked to be ground down to a fine ash for your brow
to know how the pain was made so you could fly free
it takes as long as it takes to see that the cage has never had a door
and that old pain is a blood sucker always wanting more
your greatest mistake was trying to change the shape of the passing clouds
keeping you in a nefarious, nebulous shroud of illusion- my child
grab hold of that vision you were given whilst frozen in time
and honor the experiences of your God given life
no one quite holds the mantle of miracles as tenderly as you
you are the one who chose to return and sing for your Mother Blue
your winter weathered body is a gift to finally learn
how a silent bird suffocates the sprouting of the spring sun
and that you cannot outrun your soul without falling from grace
it is in that place on your knees that the Voice is finally born
and the good prayer summons the pathway through the storm
I ask you daughter after all that has been revealed-
how is it you will tell the people?…
God is real.
~Thank you for receiving this sprout of expression. Blessed Spring Equinox. May we be brave and grow glorious new gardens from the ash heaps of our lives.
Love,
Shira Starfire
This sprout of expression embodies so many layers of your and the collective's skins shed automatically and naturally as the essence evolves, transmutes with more clarity and light.