When the old willow weeps,
Her shoulders bow to the Light,
For her ancient tears sing
In tune with the spheres.
The Light binds limbs to leaves
And defies the shade.
Her skirt, a shelter to the fallen,
Making good blankets and walls as
It’s her learning and duty, her strength
In harmony and balance
To stand firm in storms.
So we go to her.
Our pain, her food
Transmuted into swords and light
For our battles and healing.
In her tears, no regret,
Grief and despair stand aside
In this humble Sallow of Time.
We bow to her
Aging is a slow death.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.
Why do I care;
I ask for clarity and energy.
What matters is you. Just be happy. These are mole hills, not mountains. Can’t bring back love. Can’t fix everything. Can’t outdo. Can’t worry about recognition. Can’t worry about inequity. It’s not important. It’s their blindness. Just be grateful.
What makes me angry?
Am I letting go of the past?
Another shell breaks open for new life. Growth emerges after fire.
I recall in times of despair, they said, why aren’t you angry?
I held it in selfishly. I couldn’t speak or cry out.
Why would it matter. Really.
If I shouted and screamed.
As much as I tried, I couldn’t.
I beg, please lift this darkness.
There’s too much to do other than what I’m supposed to do.
There’s too much loss with more on the way.
Is this life? Am I wrong to be concerned?
I’m angry and sad.
I’m ready to let go of it. But how?
It doesn’t end.
You counted the Mala beads. This is a process. Just be patient. You did ask for this. Seeking forgiveness in all lifetimes Seeking gratitude in all lifetimes Letting go of anger in all lifetimes Healing curses in all lifetimes Curing pain in all lifetimes Seeking grace in all lifetimes These are all gifts Not burdens. You chose to release the shadows.
Like the sun is inside of me
A blazing fire
I scream to the deaf.