Twitches, goose pimples (bumps),
shivers and hot and cold flushes,
Body, you are speaking to me.
I hear you.
I notice you.
I encourage you to talk;
Tell your story.
Discharge all your anxiety,
Release all your rage,
Unfreeze all your fear,
With me, you are free,
My container is cosmic now,
I have matured, I have calmed,
I am listening.
I am trusting.
You can be free to feel,
So share.
I welcome you.

Are we all under a spell?
One spell or another?
Spell of another?
Spell of money?
Spell of fame or
Milk and honey?
Spell of drugs, alcohol,
Shame?
**** or the drudgery
of the day-to-day?
Light spells? Dark spells?
Spells that sell
A different life.
But we only have one life,
This one, right here, right now.
Live it!

You make all things new!
What was lost, damaged, and of no value,
can be transformed.
Little by little,
Breath by breath,
Choice by choice.
Drop by drop,
fills a pond.
You are faithful;
My transformer.

Sparkle, little diamond,
Wipe the dust off and
Feel your infinite potential within.
Dormancy may have been your norm,
But no more!
Shine.

I am fury, and
I rage.
I jump up and down,
Attempting to disengage.
From the idols,
The expectations,
And internal damage,
The oppression.
I am scorn, and
I lash out,
I scream:
Those ‘******* idols’ I shout.

Word wranglers wound up together, in an
Exchange at a hotel.
One said this, others said that...
And many a champas gulped and guzzled in between giggles and gazes, as
The past was pulled, kicking and screaming, into the present.
Was it a gift?
Were past pains put to peace?
Or did it awaken promises long forgotten,
That was once under the authority of the surgeons' scalpel.

Shakespeare once wrote, “The pen is mightier than the sword.”
Solomon, in Proverbs, posed that the power of life and death is in the tongue.
Words create worlds, whether written or spoken: they liberate or load us up.
This power is with us every minute of every day in every hour.
Will I write new words with my weapon whence today?
Will blossoms bloom in your heart or weeds strangle the hope in your womb?

Death always steals the show,
But it is joy that revives it.
Entering within, re-wiring love,
Breathing new life, with new words;
Remembering promises of a powerful and plentiful future.
Declaring death dead and life to be lived.
Declaring love released, and again risking heart-fully.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to hide.

I hear you, little girl,
You don’t need to perform.

I hear you, little girl,
You are now growing into a woman.

I hear you, little girl,
And cry for the things that were stolen.

I cry for you little girl,
You can just be.

I cry for you little girl,
You are brave with much to offer.

I smile for you, little girl,
And am so proud of who you’ve become.

I heal for you, little girl,
And let you rest for a while.