A Call To (Open) Arms

The darkness is setting in.
The heartbeat is steadying.
The star-cluster-feminine
is ready, so let it in.

This message is embedded in
the direct intent of the messaging.

The sacred uprising is primed.
It is up to us to decide.

I got you.

If this latest plot twist is nothing new,
if you always knew
your safety was, at best, tenuous,

if you’ve been living with the violence
elicited by false equivalencies
for your entire personal history,

if you know what it’s like
to have a strong life force
combined with a weak will to live,

to be imprisoned
in a dysfunctional system,
to be cast aside,

to be frightened of authority
with good reason,

if you know the sensation
of an indelible target tattooed
upon your back,
I got you.

If you’re a mystic
who sees through
the whisper of illusion,
who is brave enough
to peek past the veil,
I got you.

If you’ve been attempting to “pass,”
to slide in under the tripwire
as a means of survival
and you find yourself ready
to end your denial,
to stand up and be counted
as an outsider,

if you’d now like to rescind
your invitation
to partake in Stockholm Syndrome,
if offers to be gaslighted
will now remain unrequited,
if you’ve decided to keep your eyes open
despite the pain of awakening,
I got you.

If you are among the kindred
who could’ve been my closest allies,
had our half-baked
tragic excuse for an education
not been shrouded in lies
designed precisely to be divisive
and you’re finally ripping off the blinders,
I got you.

If you’ve given up on this imprisonment
and do not wish to fit in
to a corrupt system
that never had your best interest
in mind to begin with,

if you’re ready to call out
all the falsity,
all the hate,
all the monuments built on the backs of slaves,
all the holidays celebrating colonization,
no matter the potential discomfort
it may cause yourself and others,
I got you,
come walk with me.

I am grateful
for the pain of being
forged in the fires of adversity
for this mission specifically,
so that these verses
could be in service
to their highest purpose.

I am grateful for how life made me,
for the blatant and subtle ways
this world has shown me
there is no home for me,
no home for ones
known as “other”
amongst those
who would uphold the status quo.

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I am grateful to be born
at this particular time,

I am but a humble messenger.
The ancestors
have requested
your attendance
at this sacred celestial
summit session.

Your presence is expected.
It’s no less than your destiny.

My prayer is to be
an instrument of clarity.
My best is as-yet untested.

But nevertheless,
to put it bluntly,
time’s up, we
must ascend.

The linear is not serving us.
We are being called to return to the circular.

There is work to be done,
it begins with our envisioning,
with what we speak into being,
with our collective power for healing.
Let us dive in with specificity:

The sun is blazing bright.
He is squinting in the light.
Gripping a podium in his two sad hands.
And the tears start rolling,
and he’s broken, split open,
and a five-year-old child stands in place
of his bloated grownup remains.

He’s just crying and crying.
He comes out from behind the podium
which is much higher than his head
and keeps on weeping.

I’m not assigning any meaning,
there is no story,
no talk of conscience,
no ask for sympathy,
no plea for pity.

Rest assured my intention
is not to soften your position
against hegemony.

I simply
want you to envision
the little him
standing in
the rubble
of his grown-up self.

This is not the answer,
this is no solution,
it is only
the beginning
of our collective work,
it is the way
to open the gate
and start to walk away from
this foolhardy patriarchy,

as we enter the next level,
as we remember our love affair
with the winding-vine-wrapped planet,
as we exhale and inhale
in sacred pranic exchange.

We all must
let our shells crumble
and be revealed
for this next step
in our collective evolution,
as we re-learn
what it is to truly be human.


Photo by Bradford L. Cooper (Still from “Dancing Lesson (Or How to Let the Words Leave you)”)