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