losing control
Is it hope or denial, surrender or giving up, the discipline of good self-care based on experience or rigid adherence to principles that may not apply? This being human is messy, and discernment often clearer in hindsight than at the start of the day. When to get moving, when to be still? How to care for another without abandoning the self? How to find necessary solitude without disconnecting from life-sustaining community? Yep, I am a bundle of questions this morning- and that’s okay. I will sit with the questions, accept how little I know, and appreciate how infrequently I am “in charge.” 🙂
~Oriah
In this molting age of Aquarius
with water pouring from aged and busted pipes
the tin man sits heartlessly rusted in the laundry room
well beyond any repair
I see your fragile heart spread out for miles and miles
love returning from around the bend again and again
layer after layer of imbedded pain releasing with each soft, round circle and sharp-edged square
we are always tenderly held
pulled from the wreckage of our own spinning brains
working through nights of barking dogs and wild hares
seasons coming and going taking their fine time to bring us out of poverty’s grasp
husks of skin and bone carry the eerie, ethereal beauty of life and death within us – our own and all others
unmapped blue skied tomorrow’s are crossroads paralleling well worn pathways on roads less traveled
everything is connected by this web of grace weaving through our crazy-quilt patterned ancestral charts
our grave stones marking us brothers and sisters- pushing up daises as one, my friend, as well as, my foe
come to me now, save me from destroying myself in my chosen isolation
talk to me in this fine moment of cabbages and kings
take me to the river and wash me clean
feed me with roasted chicken, grapes and sugarplums
sing to me the lullabies of my mother I have loved since childhood
laugh with me in the face of my worry-stone worn smooth by endless hardened time
love me like the rock of ages
and never let me go
❤️
Amy Lloyd