Anchoring In Higher Self

Residual rage trapped In the Joy
Lifetimes of suppression, enslavement and control
All Culminate to this one point
In Illusionary Time
The rage being Shed And Transformed
Through the Floodgates of Anguished Tears
Our Tree Elders Hold Space
My Hands flat against the aged bark
Pleading For Assistance
I hear Mom and The Angels confirm
“Yes, We are Going Home”
I’d Always felt this Sacred Place