We are all
born
of light,
but some of us
are here
to remind
the rest of us.

There is
no distinction
between
the rainbow —
every shade
bends back
to light,
every color
an illusion
of the eye
only.

Division
is illusory.
Every
crying
heart,
twisted
by its own
painful
beating —

the ones
who storms
the sky
to burn
the sun
instead of sinking
into their own
scary
feelings —

those wounded
hearts
are all of us.

We do not need
to add fire
where hatred
is already
burning. …

Stepping out
of the storm,
a clearing
finally growing.

It was a dream
for so long
but now
it is shining
like diamonds
in our palms.

The downpour
was blinding
but now
we are rising —
the whole of it,
all of it —
everything

is coming
up.

© Jackie Ann 2021

Rise in bravery;
Take responsibility
for your energy.

© Jacqueline Ann 2021

This
is something
new;
something
ancient.

It is
the force
binding color
to a canvas,
stars
to a naked
heaven,
sand
to a lonely
shore,
my heart
to the arms
of yours.

It can be
a mighty sea
shaking
the ocean floor
or a timid stream
with barely
the breath
to roar.

Everything,
it seems,
is within
its pulse —
and more.

It is
the whole of it —
all of it,
everything —
expanding.

It is the heart
of a universe
and we live
within its beating.

It is the hand
that moves
a poet’s heart
to every
star-soaked
word
as it lays
her line
like a gentle
stitch
across
a wounded
world. …

The shadow
reveals
the light.

Only
by that blackened
sight — the edge
a searing sliver
of swollen
fire, silver
like the winter
star —

only
by that tiny slice
of darkness
can we see
what was hidden
before.

The shadow
brings illusion
to its knees,
bends its body
in the gravity
of truth.

There is no mystery
in what we can’t see;
Only discovery
of why
it was hidden.
When the time comes
you will know

that the secret
of eclipses
is not
what they hide,
but what they bring
into the light.

What is buried inside of you?
What is aching
for expression
but too scared
to touch
the naked
sun? …

I am
a small thing,
the whole thing
in miniature,
drinking
the nectar
at the center
of the storm.

I was born
to find
transcendence
in every
sunken
piece,
to find
coalescence
in every
shattered
dream.

As we dip
into pools
of destruction,
I am stitching
my beliefs
into a world-
wide stream
of little
reminders.

Remember
there is power
in the gentle
heart.

I live
to inspire
the soul
to wake,
to shake
the chains
of its original
wound —
the trauma
that made us
turn
our hearts
backward.

Remember
you are never
truly
lost.
There is a thread
in everyone,
an unbreakable
tether. …

Remember
when she closed
her arms
and you,
like a child
cried
for your mother
to hold you.

Remember
when you felt
your limbs
unfolding
in the absence
of her protective
covering,
and still
you were
delivered.

Even though
you trembled
at the loss
when the world
you knew
unraveled
and grew
into chaos
and there was
no boundary
solid enough
to hold it
anymore —

In the absence
of everything,
you cut loose
the anchored
parts of you
and in that
delicious
vacancy,
you felt
the wild breath
of freedom, maybe
for the first time.

And that sweet
fullness
reminded you
the shadow
is not
an enemy —
the shadow
is what shows you
where the light
is shining. …

The trauma
has passed
over
this body.

It is safe
for the soul
to return.

It is time
to bring back
every teardrop
scattered
to forgetful
rivers,
every fear
afraid
of its own
shadow.

It is time
to lay them
naked
in the light
of a loving
moon,
and remember
our ancestors
who knew
fragmentation
before we
were ever
put together.

This
being human
is not new —
it is an evolution
toward the truth
of you:

Love
is the north star
guiding you
toward wholeness.

And your holy
purpose
is to hold
yourself
gently.

Every place
where the
shadow of pain
replaced
what had been
golden…