Mondays offering...Part One of Two

 "I'm With You"

I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound

Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand?
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you

I'm looking for a place
I'm searching for a face
Is anybody here I know
'Cause nothing's going right
And everything's a mess
And no one likes to be alone

Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand?
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you

Oh why is everything so confusing
Maybe I'm just out of my mind
Yeah-he-yaa, yeah-he-yah, yeah-he-yah, yeah-he-yah, yeah!

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand?
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you

Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you

Take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I... I'm with you
I'm with you
I'm with you...

*

 the following was written the day I returned
from Colombia....

I have returned

a wearied traveler

back to my home

and to which is familiar

I return from a place of the most amazing beauty

and the most terrible of stories

a place where innocence is fleeting

a place where such things are taken

not lost

a place deep within the mountains

of despair and helplessness

where mothers are not mothers

and fathers do not stand strong

where brothers know not their place

and sisters scream in silence

I have paid witness to stories

given by those brave enough to give

and by those who holds the stories

for children who speak in secret

I am ever changed

not ready to be home

yet here I am

raw and tender

willing to stay on the battle field

willing to stand on blood soak soil

not fully knowing the protocol

but willing

ever so willing to use what I can

  

Today

upon my return

I entered the forest waiting arms

and breathed in the familiar earth

the spring sun warm upon my skin...

I felt the balm of Mother Earth

as she wrapped herself around me

helping me linger in the scent of yesterday

helping me saturate my mind with

all  that I experienced

I hold on to the tear stained cheeks

mapping out their routes

on dirty faces

the clinging hugs

the gazes that never end

the smiles

of the moment of joy

holding tight to what they have

  

It is here

I linger

hoping to wash myself

of all that is unclean

yet brand myself deep

with the mark that says 

I was there

I heard you

I seen you

I love you

I miss you

And as my own tears

make their marks

on my face

I remain

whole and broken

in deep silence and reflection

heart aching

 ready to charge...  
*

coming home was not easy
and everyday brought it's challenges of re-entry
like the buds on my magnolia  tree
the day I arrived home they were closed 
straining for the sun
straining to open
so it was for me
there was so much inside
that I needed to get out
but was unable to do so
in any "normal" fashion
I still can't say 
what that was to look like
BUT
I know I struggled for a few days
I ached for my kids
for my sisters
back in Colombia
so much was unpackaged
so much revealed
leaving seemed much too soon
but as my magnolias
each day I opened more
softened
released
and through the darkness
and the loneliness
of coming home
I came back to life
a re-birth of sorts
as Spring brought new life
all around me.

Today I was reading Women Who run with the Wolves
Chapter 9 Homing-Returning to OneSelf
and there I found my words to explain what I has just experienced...

Surfacing
"The wonder and pain of returning to the wild home place lies in the fact that we can visit, but we cannot stay. No matter how wonderful it is in the deepest home imaginable, we cannot stay under water forever, but must rise back to the surface. Like Ooruk, who is gently placed back on the shore, we come back to our mundane lives infused with new animation. Even so it is a sad moment to be placed back on shore and on our own once again.....pg 313
This phase of return is called re-entry and it is natal. The feeling of being from an alien world passes after a few hours or a few days. There after, we will spend a good space of time at our mundane life, fueled by the energy we gathered on our journey to home and practicing interim union with soul through the practice of solitude....pg 315
We find ourselves then filled with drum beats, filled with singing, filled with listening and saying our own words; new poems, new ways of seeing, new ways of acting and thinking. Instead of trying to"make the magic last," we just live. Instead of resisting or dreading our chosen work, we move into it fluidly; alive filled with new notions, and curious to see what happens next. After all, the person who has returned to home has survived being carried out to seas by the great seal spirits."pg 316


So I am not making the magic last
I am living
alive with new notions
and curious to see what happens next

Today I wrote 
I haven't since I have come home
I am in full bloom
once again

Love and Light my lovelies
I have missed you

part two