Journey to Your Deepest Self



Sacred is my child’s voice
On the other end of the line
Asking “When will you be home?”
Calling me in-
Time to come home.

Sacred is the woman
Standing at the juncture between
Highway and road
Holding a sign which reads

Sacred is the driver
Yelling, “Fuck you!”
As he speeds through the crosswalk
Where you are walking
To the other side of the road.
Leading you to feel the parts
Who have thought
“I don’t even matter!”

Sacred is the
Traumatic birth
Of a child
And the “What’s wrong with her?”
From the doctors
She has held as hers

Sacred is the recorded voice
Pleading, “Your help is urgently needed!”

Sacred are the raindrops
That must merge
With other raindrops.

Sacred are the floods and
Sacred is the drought.
Sacred is my health and
Sacred is my ill.

This universe is a container for
Chains of sacred beads
Strung by loving hands.
Each one carrying a message.
Each one
A unique piece of artistic brilliance
Crafted by
The Artist,


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