{Into the Field, Into the Water}


I am one of many.


Of the divine.

Time is short.

Beauty encompasses me.

I am beautiful.

There is light.

There is dark.

I am haunted.

Deep sadness.

Beauty lost to me.

Out of reach.

Re-connection through eternity.

We are all connected.

Threads bind us together.

Moving into the water.

What is on the other side?

Will I survive the passing through?

Will I suffocate?

Can I hold my breath that long?

Do I even need to hold my breath?

I must move into the field, into the water.

I feel the damp ground.

I hate the fear.

My toes are wet.

The water is rising.

Is this how my story ends?

Or begins?

I’m not sure where the grief ends and I begin.

They have intertwined for so long.

Is God here?

Or something else?

Someone else?

Can I really be free?

Free from the rules?

Free from the boxes?

Free from the shoulds?

Free from the condemnation?

Free from the disregard?

Free from the not good enough?

Can I really be free to fall into the Love?

Can the Love be trusted?

Can I stop wandering away?

Can I wander into the freedom that will sustain me?

Or am I bound to these chains forever?

Freedom isn’t free.

Wounds are vital to the journey.

Will they be healed?

Who am I apart from the scratches and bleeding?

Are they part of my true identity or my false erected self?

Does it all swirl together like water to reveal the me I have been looking for?

I am bound to this process.

Driven towards change.

Driven towards survival.

I am freeing myself.

{Hope Wood © 2014}