Tea Party for the Abandoned
The parts you have difficulty forgiving are a part of your medicine for the world. Rejecting them will only hurt you. Why not give them a name and invite them to tea instead? They don’t have to control you, and they might not want to once they’ve been accepted.
A heart weighed down by the weight of the world,
Overwhelmed, paralyzed by an Earth imperiled.
Washed away by the torrent, a deluge, a flood,
No refuge from this body, water, air, and blood.
Decades fade away and drift into fog.
Vision obscured, all that’s left is the log
Jamming the flow, damning the heart,
Helpless to find the time for life’s art.
Washed up on the beach, a stone finds its way
To shore up the courage. What is there to say?
Ocean and stone converse for a while.
Curious mystery, surprise and beguile.
Inner sense hidden deep within.
Structures unfold, the cracks begin
To illuminate fossils in the seams of the rock,
Behind machines and screens, the relentless clock.
Buried in stone, beyond the objective,
The Renaissance frame, the only perspective.
Imperial colonies from east to west
Ensure the frenzy of bodies, no rest.
For the wicked the promise of eternal fire
Stoked by infinite anger and ire.
Domestic family life lived in exile.
Type and code march on in single file.
Broken and burned, questioning point.
Life in the balance, found wanting. Anoint.
One, two, three. Patterns confound and dismay.
Reinvent, once more jump into the fray.
Community, co-create, experience one.
Checking the box, Religion: None.
Adrift on an ocean of outrage and hate.
Only in synthesis poles might relate.
In breath and out breath, the way out is in.
One fateful accident, dreams in the bin.
“Slow, rest, and heal,” the Universe calls,
Clearly the message on waiting ears falls.
Anger, frustration, life’s energy spent,
Awaiting the bell’s toll, collapsing the tent.
Gratitude and grace, a soul mate’s admission.
Regret and sorrow. The grief is the mission.
Tea party for abandoned dreams, little ones find
The solace of wonder, embraced by the mind.
Senses and body, ginger and peach
Tea for the guests, cups and saucers to reach
Into the darkness, invite to the table
Overwhelm, sadness, and all who are able
To sit with each other, to welcome the stranger,
To accept all with love, no thought to danger.
Vulnerable messengers, true and divine.
Breathe in relief, out, emotions from the mine.
Tears are the medicine, the heroine’s elixir.
All that was needed to heal and fix her.
Quanta and qualia, a communion, not parts,
Confused by the fear of the magic, dark arts.
Recognize, allow, investigate, nurture.
Body mind integrate science and nature.
Veronica had coached me:
The parts you have difficulty forgiving are a part of your medicine for the world. Rejecting them will only hurt you. Why not give them a name and invite them to tea instead? They don’t have to control you, and they might not want to once they’ve been accepted.
If you are looking for an ensoulment coach, Veronica Anderson offers a safe container for exploring one’s emotions as a journey from meditation practice through transformation to soul path.
Listen to an ensoulment session on The Language of Creativity podcast.
