The Chore of Finding

The Chore of Finding

Finding myself is a lifelong chore
Begun when I first heard the message
That a I am not enough in this world.

Oh, great Goddess
From the pile of ashes
I do not rise as a magnificent phoenix
I rise as a wounded bird
Tentatively shaking one feather at a time
Examining it closely before
laying it along my scarred side.

So many times, I have shed my pelt
Leaving it rolled up in dank cupboards
As I forgot how to dance.

Finding myself is a lifelong chore.

I reclaim the soundless music of my soul
Dancing to the end of space and time
Looking for the right path to everywhere.

I reclaim the heart that is scarred and battered
And more interesting because of its experiences.
There is glue in the cracks, not quite binding
Where the light of hope shines out.

I reclaim my perspective of self
Surprised that I am whole, as like dried shingles
That which has been imprinted on me
and no longer serves slides off the edge.

I reclaim the darkness
Understanding it is but a colour
So opaque it forces me to use my inner senses
To look more clearly, piercing the shadows
Allowing heart, soul, blood and bone to see
Into me and to hold others without judgement.

I reclaim the ability to live the truth of compassion
That holds the cells of loving together
Allowing it to shine out like stardust motes
Floating through the universe
Looking for the right Being to inhabit.

Finding myself is a lifelong chore.

I reclaim and reshape the space I occupy
In the beauty of this planet and in myself.

I claim the quietness of self
Where all my fears known and unknown reside.
A place of safety within my pelt which
I shall never shed again
This world is not ready for the rawness within.

I reclaim my right to feel safe on this world
Watching the stars overhead as I turn in unison
With the great mother herself holding me.

I reclaim my place as daughter of the Goddess
Praying for the balancing of masculine and feminine
For the world to turn once more on its axis to show us
How we come from the stars.

I embrace the chore
of finding myself among the stars.

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I live and work in a beautiful place with a river and beach and the wild west coast. Having grown up without a TV, as a family we read a lot. This lead to me writing a lot which in turn lead to a habit of writing poetry to make sense of my world. My grandmother painted. Lovely oils and water colours which she encouraged me to try. For many years I did very little, life was not conducive to creativity until came a time when life turned on its head and suddenly I found expression in creativity with the Intentional Creativity method taught by Shiloh Sophia McCloud in her Color of Women training. So here I am, writer, artist, ritual maker showing my offerings to the world.

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