1. The Right to Have. The Right to Be. Security. Food, Clothing, Shelter, Safety
(Sleep, sleep, my dreamy eyed treasure...I've waited so long, hoping and praying..Now you lie sleeping so close to my heart...You know the God finds HIs way with us, He sends us Dreamy Eyed Treasure..)
Somewhere in the distance there was a home I came from
A mother who cared for me, fed me from breast and fingers
Her cup and garden
I was a gift from her to the village
A gift to my father
My soul incarnated through song and prayer and effort and grace
"What will she become?"
This is the promise of embodiment. She said, "I will build you a People."
You are born. THIS is your right to be and your right to have.
But this time
It was so inconvenient. I came at the wrong time.
Too early.
And ever since, it has been more important how I could fit in
Than what I could become
The expectancy of gifts and wonders tarnished
By the scuffle after coin
Which is the only measure here, now
The only measure of the right to be and the right to have
Thrown back on myself, I feel alone
And not at all the center of the universe.
Still, She calls me back to Herself; to an earlier and simpler home
A wilder sustenance where medicine and food are not separate,
Clothing made of plants and trees and skin
Safety rests in the camouflage of the deep home.
II. The Right to Feel. Sensation and Emotional Response.
(Weep, weep, my dreamy-eyed treasure...I've waited so long, hoping and praying, now you lie weeping so close to my heart...You know that God finds His way with us, through our own labors and pleasures..)
It was as if you were God the first;
There was wonder and awe as your eyes
Swept around everything that appeared when you simply opened your eyes.
And there was something else; feelings of hunger.
Feelings of comfort in the warm breast and the breath of The Other
Feelings of sorrow when The Other went away
And delight when The Other returned.
So, the emotions took shape and were tempered by relationship.
But this time, it was so painful!
The breast was dry and instead, a foreign substance,
Which induced pain in the gut and remorse in the heart.
I longed for the breast, but it had been usurped
By an impostor.
So finally, I didn't need my mother. I had a bottle.
Still, she calls me back to Herself; to the warmth of Her Body
And the comfort of Her understanding.
Her wisdom sent me a boy cub who became a man
Whose whistling throws light all through my heart,
Whose whispers in the night throw my sorrows into sparkle dust
And my fear into the cocoon of grace and possibilities.
III. The Right to Act. To Be Effective In The World.
(Creep, creep, my dreamy-eyed treasure...I've waited so long, hoping and praying, now you come creeping so close to my heart...You know that God finds His way with us, it's just His natural gesture)
And why was I born, if not for some purpose? Is it possible to be born without it?
It is the quest of the seeker to discover. Am I on time? Is it the right moment?
Who am I?
They were expectant for me, for my role
For my ability, my power.
In that time, I was needed for a purpose,
To have an effect upon my time and people.
The Mother who cared for me also trained me and gave me to learn.
For the honing of power, which we need, if we are to survive and thrive.
They watched me,
To discern how to lead me to my power.
But this time,
Instead of the gifts and wonders within me,
They want something else.
They train me against the grain, to buy and sell the soul
When I wake up I must slip away
Fan the fire until the wood flares up
And in the light of that sacred fire, I see what it was I was meant to be
I was meant to be free.
Still, She calls me back to Herself, to the wisdom of Her way,
The ebb and flow, the cycle that circles,
The spiral that recovers the sacred ground;
The sun that rises and sets
The seasons world without end.
It is simple. To act at the right time
In season
There is power
And there is the catalyst for change
In a present time when people have forgotten.
No comments:
Post a Comment