I am looking through old photos

for the scrapbook for my daughter‘s wedding

I can see the trauma on my face, the mother in overwhelm

not enough money, too much to do and the resentment of it

envy of all those around me

in the joy and fulfillment of their family lives

deep suffering and trying to shield my daughters from it

and now from this vantage point, the envy of my younger self

the beauty of that face, the suppleness of skin and flesh

though at the time I mostly lived in aversion of my body and beingness

tender forgiveness here

we shift perception so we can see the Light in that brave Heart

he is at the base of the pyramid

and I am at the other base of the pyramid

with the Mother-Father Creator God at the apex, at the capstone

which only exists on the ethereal plane, the capstone of Isis and Osiris

the capstone of the Blue Stargate of Orion and Sirius

tossing raw meat to the hungry ghosts and the suffering ones

it is truly the Nectar of Bliss, that completely satisfies

they dissolve into Light

the Tantric Alchemy requires an Open Heart

practicing on the Razor’s Edge with Open Heart

neither shutting down nor sliding into romanticizing and grasping

I am not martyr or saint, I do this out of adoring self-care

to avoid further suffering, to free myself from conditioning

I stay awake, I sing, I dance

I embody forgiveness and I see all things differently

when I realize I am in fear, I stop and undulate

and let the steam of Grandfather‘s Breath of Faith

pour out of the top of my head, and I stand here, naked

deep shadow parts are just made

of images, feelings, impulses, perception and ancient karmic habits

the manifestation of separation consciousness in form

the Prayer is inherent in the suffering

in the unmet needs and shadow parts

the Prayer is the way forward, new moon birthing, new life

chicken eggs repair the body

tears for letting go of creative potential

tears for letting go of fertilized human egg

long grey carton with a yellow label, free range

I reach for dark sweet chocolate to fill my mouth

I reach for the Angels of the Tree of Life

I know I must offer it all up and become the vessel

Vase of Compassion

I invite the Golden Buffalo to press against my back, my backbone

it is so firm it nearly bowls me over, but I press back

Divine Feminine rhythmic respirations of Life Force

until my midline relaxes, and my wings unfold…