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Golden Lips or Self-Compassion

notes to self from my journal:

She sips the gold light of the moon-ball, closes

her eyes

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.

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