Dearest Soul

 Dearest Soul.

When my mind is quiet,
and I forget the blast of definitions of this world
(and the low smoke clears... )
I'll free fall
~ down.
Down...
Past the dragons and the darkness,
the briars and thorned hedges (called the old stories).
Past the fluttering veils,
and the towering walls (of learned defenses)
-- into the depths,
Where I hear Your voice,
calling.
(Find Me)
Down.
Until there, at the bottom of despair's dark well,
I catch Your stillness ~ in the mirror.
I find You, standing at your moon-milk windows
(called my eyes).
You take my hand,
our first kiss like a babe's first gasp of air.
And like secret lovers we'll explore our sacred Being.
Its hidden rooms and deep, ancestral oceans
... where dreams thought lost
appear again like ghosts.
Old pains in nooks and memories tangled, like cobwebs.
(And buried treasure).
And there, in the dark swells of Your embrace,
I finally see...
Me.
Not harsh words, not wounds, nor criticism,
or sadness,
...But our own Divinity, Soul.
And in the Seeing, our great wings expand,
our proud chest lifts, (in Joy, in Love),
And tears, wild with seasons, break across our eyes,
to nourish branches, to weave out worlds ~
This heart unfurling
I love You, Woman / Man in the mirror.
My precious Soul, where have you been?
And with a secret smile
My lips whisper back:
Birthing Life.
...Come with Me.
~ Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer) Midwives of the Soul
art | Benjamin Victor

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