Thank You God

Wednesday Night

Riding the wave of surrender and healing is as indiviual as we humans are.

Personally, the shock, then the tears, then a verison of grounding which feels solid and then suddenly is not..

I believed that I had NO photos of my nest. My memory is keen, and as my haven has been my place of beauty and solace, I was supremely present with it, but I wanted to find concrete images to sit with, and so I went on a quest, and the quest was successful.

Prior to this FINDING, there was one dangling sorrow, its importance cannot be qualified. When I found this in one of the photos, I pushed the button that makes things bigger so that I could read it and “Thank you God”, came though me.

A poem that was given to me by my oldet daughter, written by her when she was 17.

She was born with many gifts, and THIS….is one.

My mother, the Argentinian horse woman,

has a fire in her belly hotter than

the tango on a nght scented with

musk and cherry blossoms.

I grew inside

that fire.

It must have felt like a volcanoe

inside her when I was born. Fire

birthing fire is a storng thing. And

so we are sautered together through

the umbilical cord though the umbilical cord has long been

cut and dry.

She has hands like islands

in the river of her life.

As she twinkles in her daily grown up doings.

Her fingers, cool and soft like stems, drum up earth

in all she touches. Luckliy she touches me,

So I feel the earth in my veins too.

The earth has fissures like

the sea has storms.

Somehow, someway

I crave

She craves

We bring our goblins out for a boxing match

And then the talking is hard.

Yet still

Only in those eyes do I see the shade of green

found in mine after a swim or a good cry.

Like she is me cleansed

or I am her inside a dark alluring cave.

She is an Argentinian horsewoman

The Queen of the Dance

A fertile feminine form

She is a river to many, a star to more

To me she is the Source: the volcanoe from which I sprang

And the delta to which I will return.

Elemental goddess

Mother of mine.

The fire that came and turned our homes to ashes, cannot touch what is most important.

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