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Spiritual Awakening

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This Thunderous Journey

I stumbled across the poem below which neatly captures many of my own thoughts and feelings of this, "thunderous journey" which, although immensely challenging and incredibly lonely at times, I do feel blessed and honoured to participate in.


It's a reminder of all the challenges I have overcome and, whilst I have had to do "the work" myself, I'm thankful to everyone who has walked alongside me 🙏


The image is a mural at Hessle Road roundabout in Hull (artist unknown), opposite my workplace in 2023. The character at the helm seems strangely familiar - from the days when my hair was cropped! 


The Return

by Geneen Marie Haugen


Some day, if you are lucky,

you’ll return from a thunderous journey

trailing snake scales, wing fragments

and the musk of Earth and moon.


Eyes will examine you for signs

of damage, or change

and you, too, will wonder

if your skin shows traces


of fur, or leaves,

if thrushes have built a nest

of your hair, if Andromeda

burns from your eyes.


Do not be surprised by prickly questions

from those who barely inhabit their own fleeting lives, who barely taste

their own possibility, who barely dream.


If your hands are empty, treasureless,

if your toes have not grown claws,

if your obedient voice has not become a wild cry, a howl,


you will reassure them. We warned you,

they might declare, there is nothing else,

no point, no meaning, no mystery at all,

just this frantic waiting to die.


And yet, they tremble, mute,

afraid you’ve returned without sweet

elixir for unspeakable thirst, without

a fluent dance or holy language


to teach them, without a compass

bearing to a forgotten border where

no one crosses without weeping

for the terrible beauty of galaxies


and granite and bone. They tremble,

hoping your lips hold a secret, that the song your body now sings

will redeem them, yet they fear


your secret is dangerous, shattering,

and once it flies from your astonished

mouth, they–like you–must disintegrate

before unfolding tremulous wings.



ree

 

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Alan
Alan
Mar 17

The person steering really does look like you!

Really good poem.

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