2016 – My Death Year

​2016.

This has been a 13 year for me, a Death card year. A year of endings and pain and full stops. A year to die again and again and again until the Phoenix in me has no choice but to rise up from the ashes and dust of all the death she’s seen.

It hurts while I die, but I won’t go quietly. And when I am done, I will sprinkle this fertile landscape with the seeds of my dreams, water them with the decaying corpse of my fallen Phoenix, and watch them grow into the life I’ve hoped for. This is the time when the morbid and grotesque meet the glorious and the joyful. Together, they unite in my sacred feminine humanity. I am terrifying and gentle all at once.

When Death comes for the last time, my Phoenix and I will be watchful and ready. We’ll put up a fight because resistance is all we know. When we concede, we do so gracefully. Everything goes quiet.

The pain of birth shocks me back to life. Once again, I am a fool-hardy offspring, ready to bare my soul again in a fight to the death. It’s the cycle of struggle, the cycle of humanity. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

How to Be a Tree – A Poem

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How do I love and feel fresh in each new moment?

How do I become alive?
How do I grow like a tree?

From the ground up.
Build a firm foundation.
Root into fertile soil.
Root into a sunny, fruitful place.

Then, bask in the sun’s glow.

…and grow.

Grow tall and wide.
Bear fruit and blossoms.

Grow where I am.
Grow where I am planted.

Plant myself in a fertile place,
To be nourished, cherished, watered, and loved.

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Vrksasana – Tree Pose

Human Alchemy – A Poem

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Purge.
Cleanse.
Get it all out.

All the things inside,
stuck to my insides,

Hanging on for dear life,
to suck the marrow from my bones,
to rape life and energy
from my being,
my spirit,
my soul.

Expel them.
Drive them out.
Fear, hate, viciousness.
The bad, the ugly,
the tormented black bits.

These things that once felt like such a part of me
are gone, gone, gone.

Leave me be
with my sanity.

I don’t need you anymore,
jealousy, anger, rage.

You no longer paralyze me.

I tell you to leave, and you go.
What you leave behind isn’t pretty,
But it’s necessary.

It’s out.
It’s outside of me.

It nourished me once.
I digested it and it flowed through my body,
Became a part of me.

The time came for it to be expelled
and it left.

Not quietly or gracefully,
But pitching a convulsive fit while I stood by, helplessly.

Let it boil up, then fizzle out.

It will return to whence it came.

Purge.
Cleanse.
Get it all out.

Transform it.