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

Surrounding Herself with Incessant Torrents

Scatter the pages

The words

The memories

Scatter them into the water

To be blessed for eternity

Eternally giving life to all.

 


 

The realization that keeping the journals filled with sorrow, joy, dreams was a prison of madness. I threw them all away. I am now free. Freedom feels a bit unsettling at times, so I seek the help of others to help me balance and return to my source where creation radiates an infinite undefined brilliance.

The same with the bin filled with expressions of a need to feel loved. I now know that I am loved. Thank you to the teachers, the friends, the classmates, the scores, the crown, the cards, the notes, the mementos and more. Thank you for being the external source of that which I had forgotten. You were all there for me when I needed you. Thank you.

As I release that which no longer serves me. Let it be known that all others are also released.

We dance. We sing. We flow, We grow. We live a little longer.

Thank you.