the sky is pale like a baby's skin or first breath
hardly noticeable: small green buds peek their eyes out
into the sunshine the slight chill sounds of new wings
flapping and tiny legs crawling. below the surface, everything
boils-- with excitement, tension, yearning to be born into existence
and even in my heart there is a fire born. i, buried beneath the dark
earth and protected by her endless hiding places, am shivering
with the impression of a fresh start from all that i have been
flowers bees green yellow pink blue brown and a fresh scent of
mud filling the air-- the rain doesn't freeze my skin anymore.
sometimes it is ok to not process the pain of the past
let the earth take it let time swallow it up every last
bit of your emotional wounds can't be understood, and it certainly
won't make you a better person to journal all day long or
sit in the dark doing shadow work. i've tried, i know.
today is a day of celebration: of gratitude joy forgiveness
it is never too late and the universe opens gates that bypass time,
portals to a new world or version of yourself-- let the earth take it
let time swallow all of your experiences that you don't understand.
all you need to cross the gate is faith in yourself and trust that you don't need to cling anymore to your sadness in order to be real.
the sun will open bloom like a broken glass chimera into a thousand petaled rose and the sky will thunder beginnings of a new world
shuddering beneath your feet with each breath you take like a child.
-- "Ostara" by Hannah Everest Klein (Lunacita)