Tag: universe

Manifesting Universes

On By KristenIn Poetry, Spirituality2 Comments

We are each manifesting a universe, a potential brewing within ourselves
Packed into infinitely small space, moments from bursting
In an explosion of blinding light and matter ignited by the unbearable intermingling
Of deepest joy and deepest suffering, until our skin is torn apart and
Our innards are spread across the galaxy we’ve created in a great sigh of relief.
We birth a world held together by indescribable strength, force, intention, and release.
And then (because now moments and time exist) we stand aghast
Unbelieving at what we have just created
A complete world filled with our own pain, sorrow, joy, and bliss,
Swirling together into physical bodies that will play out these emotions in innumerable stories
Until one day, every last atom has experienced every possible variation of joy and sorrow,
And peacefully dissolves back into itself
Melts away once again into a potentiality, as if crawling back into a womb
Where everything and nothing already exists, has existed, and will exist,
And we already know all of it.
Until we forget again.

What Do You Do

On By KristenIn Life, Poetry, Spirituality2 Comments

I wrote this poem in response to the innate fear that often manifests when you are presented with an opportunity you’ve asked for, that you want deeply, but that you are terrified to accept. Perhaps because you are afraid to fail, afraid to change, afraid of making the wrong choice. How do you let go of that fear and embrace inner wisdom? I don’t profess to know the answer, but I’m contemplating it daily.

What do you do

When the universe grants your prayer?

Do you cower in fright

Like a child who fears the night?

Do silent, salty tears flow down your face

And consume your soul

Washing away any semblance of your past self?

Do you give in to the power

Of understanding and pure love

That you can’t imagine possibly exists

And leap into the flowing current

Against the judgement of your mind

Or the cautions of others?

Does your heart shrink into itself

Hiding beneath the thick layers it has built over years

Lifetimes

Like countless woolen blankets suffocating truth?

Does your mind pull you back into the past

With invisible bars and cold floors?

Or does your heart expand toward the light

The possibility

Of knowing itself in ways unimagined

Of swimming through fear and doubt?

Unsurely at first, cautious

But swiftly feeling the current lifting you up

Not pulling you under

As you give in to it, it gives back in turn to your supple movement.

Who were you, back then?

It doesn’t matter. You are here now, and each now is new.

Each drop is whole unto itself, but indistinguishable from all else.

Feel it.

Rip off the blankets. Dissolve the bars.

Dive.

Leave the heavy voices behind like unneeded layers cast off in the warmth of the sun.

Feel the light on your cheek

And melt into the joy of the light.