Who are you? Your super-natural presence in my life. Are you my mother, my home, yet you’re asking me to fledge the nest? Into what? Am I grown up now? When did that happen and how do I fly when I fear turbulence? Your rocky terrain of no man made substance is what feeds me through my soul starting at my feet. Fracturing my pillar while trying to do what is calling me into the next step. But I don’t want to.
***Minor temper tantrum.**
I cry in your beauty, wanting to be sure it will be here for my future. I don’t want to leave you, no matter how demeaning you can be, you’re still my mother. You’re my home. Yes I forgot, and yes of course thank you for the teaching of ‘true north’ – home is where my heart is, forever flowing. It doesn’t beat once and be done, I must move with the current, with the seasons, nomadically shifting, for my life might be only in this instant. And all this planning, trying, yearning is future fancy, not in this nowness of an obtuse reality.
I want to hate you, I want to fear you, I want to pack my bags and flip you the finger, but I’m so goddamn in love with you, I can’t. You’ve been my mother for lifetimes. You’re not even a place, but a space inside my-self that occupies and makes up my very existence, no wonder why I can’t leave. You were here before I was and returning to you has been brutal, as if to ask, ‘are you sure’? My answer is always in where I land. On two feet, when you’ve tossed me up in turbulent times only to also be my savior.
Psychic Medium, Spirit Guide, Writer