The path waiting in the shadow.

Most people will not intentionally place themselves in the face of hate. They run away from it. I run towards it. That’s where the alchemy is. That’s where the call is. I visualize it like shadows screaming at each other twisting around trying to find their way past each other in their confusion. All of it rushing around blindly seeking its way to the light. It’s all screaming for the path to love. Screaming ‘where is it?’, clawing to rise. Every action of the shadow is that scream. I can’t do anything about that but for myself. I can’t transform another person. That’s arrogant and impossible. I can love myself so fiercely I speak to my own shadow with love, ‘My dear, you are the path’. I’m that stand, once in awhile, another sees how if I love me, they too can love themselves. I feel it when that happens, when another person sees themselves with such love in a way they did not before think possible. I feel it when a person suddenly feels the innate love they are. When this happens, when they experience this, something that has no words shifts in me too. The most powerful gift to this world is self love. It’s the path waiting in the shadow.

I normalize what’s not OK
Just so I can hide today
And in the slippers of this norm
Splinters blister my naked form
In the tremble of I am
Breaks station
Delegates formation
I rectify nothing
Laying claim
Free from para
Of the site
Agonizing no more sunder
As I feel the motion shiver
Dissipating into the blood of is.
That is trickle sounding to pour
Breaking chains onto floor
What was once my pacifier
Breeds itself a liar
It’s own purpose
To kiss liars lips and taste myself
Maybe there is a reason to not hide right now
And even though I know the cave will call me
Again as we dance the mighty requiem
I know too this path will show me
Here I am in other hand

There are many interpretations of the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood. To me it is little red’s shadow. The polarity of innocence and predator. To me predator is shadow spurned. Shadow sits, listens, conveys it’s needs when received tenderly, when it’s madness is not shamed. Acknowledged, loved, embraced, it’s recklessness sheds to reveal benign. It is after all, me. And I like donuts.


Standing in my storm
Overshadowed by my always
Screaming in the wind with no sound
The ground is wet
I cannot run
I don’t know how to hold innocence of encased barbwire
Leaves a pale taste in my mouth
Grey matter
Double edge judgment
Facing the breath of stale fire
Sleeping in mouth of dragon
I unfold to night walk across haze
Fog pushes me into steps of now
Steps that cannot move
Standing storm