photo by S.M.
It is my time,
they keep telling me.
For too long, have I kept myself small,
asked for too little,
expected no greatness.
I need only grasp it,
I am primed and prepped,
washed clean by tears of suffering and joy,
ready to receive.
What hesitation is this,
what fear that holds me back —
one foot mired in muck,
the other swimming freely in the clean, clear,
Feet be where they may,
The Wind, she whispers to me always,
if I listen,
that I am the goddess, the temple priestess, the healer, the sage,
Receive to give, they say
(I thought it went the other way!).
I am the earth beneath me, the sky above.
All Love and healing flows through me
and this is my divine right
So I am told.