Where You end and I begin,The separation is not clear.
The womb from which my heart began,
Forever tied to the beating of your own.
As one you birthed me into this world,
A separation that etched out my heart,
My body, the temple of my Spirit.
It is no mystery why we both are here,
Intertwined in similar stories,
Mistaken beliefs of unworthiness.
Forgotten.
Veiled.
But, perfectly imperfect we press on,
Picking up the pieces,
Making amends for all the generations,
That came before,
To boldly, unapologetically proclaim
Our power, our voice, our love.
Though the ancestors before us,
Shied away,
From the Truth,
The heart.
Building up walls, instead of safe passages.
Fortresses, instead of temples,
Desecrating the temple with fear,
Instead of love.
Darkness,
In place of light.
But I stand before you now,
Seen, vulnerable, awake.
As mother and daughter, we stand,
Singing a similar melody,
Distinct in voice and pitch.
An agreement we made long ago,
To journey alongside one another,
To do the best we can, in each moment,
Releasing ourselves from the burden,
Of perfection, of something to be attained.
To recognize our innate self worth,
By simply breathing.
To forgive one another for mistaking,
Who we are as broken,
Something to be fixed.
To free ourselves from the burden,
Of unworthiness, guilt, shame.
To reclaim our roots,
Of wholeness and worth,
To flourish yet again in our beauty
And love.
To remember,
The core of who we are,
Boldly reclaiming the lost jewel in the city.
That all we are is a burning flame of
Love.
Burning down all the walls,
The fortresses,
Resurrecting the temple,
Sacred
Whole.
Mother, daughter,
Crone, maiden.
All one.
Unfurling from the other.
A continuation of the seed,
Planted long ago,
A reclamation of all forms.
In wholeness once more.
