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Jul 2015
Thea, the goddess of the earth
Sits like a rock in her chamber of woven light.
The fortunate who enter here
Are blessed and tormented and burned and held.

They arrive knowing that they must make a sacrifice;
They do not pay in money but in tears,
In truth wrenched from the soul,
In accountability and naked raw awareness.

None who arrive do so lightly
But all who come leave lighter.
Their confusion unraveled through skilful enquiry,
Cut by a sharp silver sword of truth and knowing.

Enter - but do so with reverence and respect.
This is a place of healing!
Men and women are unmade and made here.
This is a poem I wrote about a healer I visit occasionally. It is always an extraordinary experience.
Written by
Maude writes poems  Wales
   --- and Kelley A Vinal
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