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Tag: letting go

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Lunar Freedom
Writing

Lunar Freedom

by Christina Dupdated on January 4, 2019February 8, 2019Leave a Comment on Lunar Freedom

I pity the girl who danced to your rhythmsthinking it was she who created the beat. Your dance is unsafe, unsettling. On a new moon I drift away silently,using the dark to my advantage.Farewell you who once knew me,a stranger to me now.By the full moon you’ll be howling,your outbursts mimicking the tides. I twirl …

Writing

When You Are Thirsty

by Christina Dupdated on January 2, 2019January 31, 2019Leave a Comment on When You Are Thirsty

Like a new day dawning Morning dew glistening The rainbows of light glimmer through my windows at sunrise I take a deep breath I exhale I am at peace To dance wildly and intimately With my pain As it continues to haunt me As it pounds on my door, And to know truly It is …

Writing

My Spirit Does the Heavy Lifting

by Christina Dupdated on January 2, 2019January 17, 2019Leave a Comment on My Spirit Does the Heavy Lifting

There are but 2 people with whom I trust my darkness. When I am in that fitful state I have come to know As I thumb through that list Looking for someone to call My name does not appear. The I that is entangled In he said/she said, Judgment, Loneliness, 1 am thoughts racing in …

Writing

A Warrior Child

by Christina Dupdated on January 5, 2019January 5, 2019Leave a Comment on A Warrior Child

I keep thinking she’s dead The little girl who manages Directs and protects the spiritual direlects She keeps popping up On long drives With the right song After the holidays When the dishes are clean And the family has left She shows up again and again I wrestle her in fits Insisting I don’t need …

Writing

Raising Healers

by Christina Dupdated on November 2, 2018November 8, 2018Leave a Comment on Raising Healers

This house we built With no bad touches And full bellies, Lights that are on Water that is running: May not be enough. A warm embrace, Nourishing meals together, Lights intended for bedtime stories, Cozy bubble baths: a good start. My own wellness, Food consciousness, Light that intentionally casts shadows Weeping alone in the tub: …

Writing

Every Other Weekend

by Christina Don November 2, 2018November 2, 2018Leave a Comment on Every Other Weekend

Each crack you chiseled into my foundation The waters of this love have touched And there is no going back now Take back your piecemeal attempts at parenting and marriage, The table upon which I feast is plentiful You are welcome here and I need you to know: Your projections did not break me Your …

Writing

Despondence

by Christina Dupdated on November 2, 2018September 9, 2018Leave a Comment on Despondence

Despondence My failures: Perceived losses. My perception is skewed. Is it? Does Mother Earth cry As her forests burn to ash? Does she weep at the sight of her people drowning in her floods? I don’t know. I don’t know.

Writing

Coleman’s Bed

by Christina Dupdated on September 7, 2018September 7, 2018Leave a Comment on Coleman’s Bed

This poem came to me while reading Heart and Mind by Alexander Shaia. As I settled in to the words I began to weep. Words are powerful that way. When they hit you at the right moment, just when you are ready to receive them, your heart expands. That is what this poem did for me. …

Writing

Standing Still

by Christina Dupdated on September 7, 2018August 28, 2018Leave a Comment on Standing Still

How does the oak tree with deep roots grow? Upward. My life has been a series of goodbyes. When I think of the word “adventure” I think of something out there. Something far away. Somewhere new, something fresh. Sunshine, the coast, sand, mountains, rolling green hills. I discovered that an oak tree, standing tall and …

Writing

Letting Go

by Christina Dupdated on September 8, 2018August 16, 2018Leave a Comment on Letting Go

The fragrance of this room is familiar It is the rotting embers of truth and light, trampled on for months filling my nose and brain. I’ve found myself here again, hints of my consensual participation buzzing in my ears. Its tail bats away a fly Hooves march about The stench becomes unbearable. The last glowing …

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“I write to record what others erase when I speak, to rewrite the stories others have miswritten about me, about you.“

-Gloria E. Anzaldúa

 

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