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Inspiration Poetry

Abundance

The usurpation of the think-positive culture

Misses the earth’s many shades.

Oh, mother,

You many-faced one,

You merge the sun’s rays with the dance of a worm.

I stand bewildered in front of your thorns.

My childhood dreamt the skies

Crying, injured from the fall

You held me in your lap

and taught me how to hold

Still

You showed me how to nest,

In the dark, in the cool, in the wet.

The unborn.

Then you blew into my bones

Reviving the wisdom of the old.

The old ones,

They bemoan our time’s sentencing of the negative mind.

It is sad to only

Think positive! Manifest! Think positive! Manifest!

A hysteria that is born from the misremembering of the cycles.

Positive thinking, Negative thinking,

There is no such thing.

All there is is awareness,

Witnessing,

Presence,

Compassion,

Meeting life at where you are.

Don’t forget the writer’s way, they say:

Tasting every feeling,

Trying on screw thoughts,

Remembering the flux of life,

No memories are lost.

One day we’ll all lose the moon,

Alright,

But until then

Oh, mother,

let me ride your wild boats.

No positive tempering of your richness.

Let me grasp your true faces,

The Manyfold,

Let me sink into your many-colored eyes,

And touch all textures of your skin.

Abundance, your name is.

Truth be told,

Truth be told.

Rock me on your chest,

Behold:

I’m ready,

Life, you’ve been called.