Willow

 
I know what it’s like not to write  
for meaning, unobtrusively depart  
over the wooden floor boards  
merging with after light.  

I know what it’s like to wake  
forget to remember, record  
what it was you quietly dreamt  
so you could pen something  
anything before time crept  
into someone else’s deadline.  
 
I know what it’s like to desire  
yearn for the Muse through  
a burning pyre of emptiness.  
 
But, I tell you, you are blessed,  
anointed, chosen for the test  
to endure the flamed sacrifice  
that the Spirit of the Phoenix  
you profess an inspiration to  
your Life be reborn through you.  
 
Rise into a deeper meaning  
than could ever possibly be writ  
from the confines of who you  
are currently.

You, who overcame so much
injustice committed against
the youth of yourself;  
you, who has kept walking  
despite ruddy scrap metal  
in the street and scarred skin;  
you, who is formed in my image  
and reflected in perfection  
despite what others may see;  
 
Is not your Spirit, light of heaviness  
worth so much more than flesh.  
What did you honestly think,  
that it wouldn’t hurt like this.  

This is your answered prayer;  
I am here; I am listening:  
Now trust and believe;  
be still and know I exist.    
~  
 
 
Author's note: I am an empath/medium that sometimes receives messages for others. I started not to post this and asked the Universe for a sign, an open door to proceed. No sooner than I had done that, Willow posted scars. I am not comfortable with this, which is why I know it's right. I am not trying to preach. This is not meant as disrespect.  I am just the messenger. Please don't shoot. And, please, do not message me with requests. I only walk where I am led; I only do what the Universe instructs; I only walk through the doors it opens; I don't push.