To Feel the stirring of eternity. My soul on fire
ten thousand firemen couldn't begin
A million years of labor for this 1 glorious moment.
How can this be? Impossible, a skeptical mind says over and over, this can't be so,
yet, in soft slumber the truth be told. When awake, it is glorious.
God forbid it be false, for then wings of truth fly useless amongst seeds of promise. Eternity is minute compared to the knot in my stomach
which an embryo stirs. A million years of waiting for the truth to be told.
To hold back is unthinkable, to lie is insanity, a soul beckons for union that fills an entire galaxy . To proceed is evolution in her cups, laughing all the way to the door of your heart. I wonder what your kiss feels like, our souls as one again, after centuries of separation.
The Raven Goddess, in disguise, plays her saxaphone like the Sirens, drawing Persiphone from her balcony to
welcome home the vistor, where a million years of stillbirths lead to one final perfect resurrection.
In one swift moment the harmony converges into bright rays of light. Blind or denying the truth ask the beams, only a molecule of hope can answer. In one moment the coast is clear. In one moment every instinct that cries out is right, and the eternal dance with your Goddess begins. Ashamed of my truth's sheer intensity, scared it may drive her away, I await the verdict of the universe. To withold honesty must be a crime of passion, a life sentence awaits unless freed. Is risking unconditional truth found and possibly lost better than never having the chance to dance at all?
Original poems that are specifically recovery related
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