recording a poem for Śabda Institute about growing up, shyly & clumsily, & about learning to hold my inner child with sweetness – while being held myself within our luminous saṅgha
ending verses:
i caress the shame the little girl felt
let it blossom in the palms of my hands
pour loving awareness into the wounds stored within my body
until my heart releases and pulses
with pride in the light of sovereignty
and my little girl is lovingly held by my woman.
and, she is – and she will always be 
the poem’s called “spring song”
*current situation: basking in the afterglow of our Sphota retreat. softened heart & never-ending gratitude – to the unfolding of life, to the grace of the guru, to the support of the saṅgha, to the wonders of the path
amaryllis 