The Iron Door of Confusion

Between the layers

lies a collective confusion

about why we’re stuck

in a place where we know

to go

up or down.

Behind the iron door

in a space where there is no place

for joy or terror

in a place where we know

we should go

up or down.

Where the walls replaced

the once brilliant views

where there were no walls

there are now caverns of confusion

in a place where we know

to go up or down.

We move, we follow,

we express our sorrow.

But what do we do?

We pry open the iron door where we know

to go

up or down.

Laughter subsides

and we all arise

awakened to the choices

awakened by the voices

of the childrenĀ  playing

and the trees are swaying

away from the collusion

and much confusion

form the place where we know

to go

neither up nor down.

— Wendy Who Walks With Wildflowers

Stand Here While I Tremble

Dear Being,

May you feel the comfort of knowing you are loved exactly as you are.

As you are. [in a gentle whisper]

Not who you were, who you are, who you’ll become

Not what you were, what you are, what you have, what you had

Not what you said, what you say

Not what you do or what you did.

May you receive the gift of peaceful, quiet moments when you recall that which you are.

Loved.

Loved not romantically, not parentally, not spiritually, or professionally or therapeutically or medically.

Loved not materialistically, magically, artistically or financially.

Just simply loved. [in a quiet whisper]

Loved like a tree stands firmly in the ground.

Loved like the sound of the wings of any winged being (and that includes you).

Loved like the song of brilliant rays of light.

Loved like the vision of the creation of that which is you.

 

………………..


This goes out to every being currently choosing to survive and thrive after experiencing trauma.