Golden Lips or Self-Compassion
notes to self from my journal:
She sips the gold light of the moon-ball, closes
to breathe it, intake its orb and digest
the smooth energy coming
in and leaving on the out breath –
to feel that singular vibration
below the navel, in the Hara or Belly
of Self-Love, below the heart, the 2nd heart,
inner well of feeling, the cavern where she stuffs
things she doesn’t want to feel.
Her sins of omission towards the Inner child
left on a doorstep, abandoned
crying with a dark cloud overhead.
Will I ever be loved? Truly seen and held?
When I feel weak, unable, too small
to “do it”, to take on a challenge or role,
will I push my inner voice away, or hug
her to me?
Will I gently rock the little one
who feels not enough, and gentle her fears?
Solid as that ball of light, this center
of knowing, this presence of gold
in the dark.