neon martyr

When you've reached rock bottom there is only one way left to go.
Up.
No need to rush, take your time.
Feel each step and thank the universe for letting you take these breaths.
Do not manifest negativity in a circle of protections that were cast with you in mind.
Implosions are your own undoing.
Ravel the thread back to your beginning.
Rebirth. Fresh lungs
Find your heart.
Start there.
Blessed be.

September

The path to self actualization is not an easy cleared out path that has been paved. It is a thick forest, the wandering woods.

With swarming insects, foreboding quicksand, and packs of howling wolves running through dusk set skies.

On this path you'll find spiraling streams though, where lush blooming flowers climb, reaching to the knowing sun.

You will find clearings where fawns frolic and rabbits burrow into soft dens they've built on their own.

You will come face to face with your own pack, your own choices to go along until their path ends or faces down different directions.

The howling was a call, a "Goodbye, Good luck and Be well."

The insects carrying ten times their own weight creating bridges from dawn to the setting suns over quicksand to help lead the way.

Vines like swings to trapeze you into action, and soft leaves to slumber.

Sometimes to wallow, sometimes to pour doubts from your eyes as you stare at the clouds above the maze we are learning.

You will remember in dreams, voices of seas you must reach, maps on the stars shining through blanketed skies.

You will tend to your path and become it.

With or without those you may have set forth with.

This is your own soul that collects then cleanses like a set of fresh lungs.

Nurture it.

Lift it with pride in all your choices weaving into intricate rainbow casting webs. Catch yourself in the fern laced safety you can create, and seek those that journey the way you do, the way you must.

Seek what sets your soul into motion, and flow forward in hand dug streams that water the life you create.

Wherever change occurs, meet it head on then plant your seeds to carry on.

Become.

S.M.

092816

dilated

Pouring into overflowing wells.
I'll be absorbed back into the earth and dispersed more effectively in the future.
For now, focusing on the dotted lines I'm carefully following with sharp blades.
"Sever." My friend whispers...
"Not yet" I shake my head.

Laying in the wet grass watching horses running through pink and white clouds,
his hair swaying like wispy willow branches radiating purples.
Dilating pupils.
Love finds a way.
I'm choking on flower petals.

Chrysalis.
Gooey Wings.
Visual interpretation-
Of whiplash,
a soft beating panic attack.
Rain drum.
Watching your emotional palette change.
It's begun.

July

Little lion,
In the summer winds.
Carrying you on wings, of gold.
We're weightless, let me show you how.
Palms open.
Glittered with seeds.
That's why I let you see, only flowers.
Conjure the conjoined roots.
Nourish these fields.
Braided nests.
Noshing on the weak, relieving the rest.

8116
SM

I'm pulling strings, thin as spider silk.
Wrapping them around my hands, illuminating protections
I can only do and say good because I know how much it costs to Play the devil.
We've had many a night, smiles used to invite him in.
"Been a while since you've decided to sin."
Its a choice I choose, got too much to lose.
A heart full of love, bleeding like a saint.
I'm singing songs into the wind.

Hoping you'll hear what my soul has to say.
Met you at the entrance, even offered to pay.
Now I have their hands pulling me back inside.
Lips red as blood, and I'm trying to run.
On my knees and breathless, how did we come to this?
Mapping out the stars.
Said you waited til the right time,
Is it now?
Is it now?
Is it now...?

8-7-16
SM