Poetry addressing Solar Plex Chakra (fear)
The furnace of my soul lives somewhere north of my waist, and south of my breathUndisclosed, its location, a confessional space Hidden deep inside my human formNoticeable only when awakened for heat and counsel. My very life is tethered to the health of its inaudible and invisible flameConsciousness and enlightenment appear as its greatest guardian. […]
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As a little girl, I felt his seething teeth. They appeared as a smile but dripped like a wolf.His hatred masked in intellect and strained composure. Justified in title, gender and societal perception. Time Passed And without effort, I grew into a young woman. And the buds of my breasts were met with disgust.His rage
She’s seldom welcomed, but she owns the room. The purpose, hers. Years of running into a wall, when it’s the only way out. Legs firm – her ground secure. Heart centered – purpose claimed. Mind forward – fate designed. Spirit driven; she leaps into her own divinity.
I don’t need him. But in his world, mine. His voice and presence would be well appreciated. I’m not frail. I’m fierce. But near death. I’m female. Safety will never be mine. I have heart. Wisdom. Courage beyond logic. That is in fact my fragility. No doubt. I have privilege; and I stand watch.
Here’s what haunts me …Numbness. I get it. It feels,Safe. At the moment, Grey.I await the smoldering coal request. Reveal, I sound,My morning light.
I’ve spotted you, but I don’t need to touch you. I have already captured you. And my next move is based upon your ensuing response. Afraid? Release. Curious? Inquire. Aroused? Engage. And with that, pray you, we feast.
I will always feel more than most,but I am not unique. I will never know who named me,but I am not nameless. I will always stumble and fall, But I am still,standing.
If this is how you love me, then please stop. Listen, you can’t. Accept, you won’t. Your advancement is both calculated and random; relentless and underhanded. The antithesis of compassion and trust, I grow weary with self-doubt. Danger on que, chaos pursues. You love me. So disappear I must. Hide I shall try, but why?
No one can truly prepare for the day or split second when their life will end. The inertia and gravity of that solitary moment is inescapable. It’s a truth that inspires, paralyses and haunts us all. That split second when, consciously or not, a lifetime of theories, addictions and personal evolution collide in reckoning. This
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I both love and fear the ocean. Its power and movement are un-tamable and absolute. At best, I’m part of it. At worst, all consumed. But I’d far prefer an ocean’s wrath to that of the misinformed passive observer. The scrutiny of false friends lays court for the trial of betrayal and a loss that
