Love, becoming one.
Then pain. Two again.
**The image prompted a reliving of my personal moment but click here for what inspired the artist to create this beautiful sculpture. Click here to see another perspective of the moving version.
A most productive exclamation of feelings.
For the delivery of, but also being a witness to.
I was reminded how emotional outbursts can be an easing of my burden.
After existence becomes too much, sometimes only rage and tears
can get me back to center.
Mastery – it’s in you.
Don’t you know that? You mustn’t fear it.
Request the presence of greatness.
Open yourself to be filled with it.
Experience the fibers of your neural pathways strengthening, your veins expanding, and your muscles glowing powerfully.
Breathe in success and
Taste the accomplishment of your own doing.
A god can’t do that for you.
Never has, never will.
Unclasp and do.
Nobody tells you how devastated you are going to feel.
Your experience is one of joy, of knowing that you will bring a product of love into the world. The pregnancy is a combination of all that’s good about you and the one who made you feel the need to offer yourself as a vessel for that love. Oh, it feels right. You’ve made the best possible decision you have ever made, and it’s growing inside you. The love you feel for your man, the union you have and the child you’ve made together – it is bliss, magnified times ten. At least, it was for me.
You feel giddiness and a depth of emotion like no other in the beautiful moments of planning your future together, and in sharing your expectations with each other. All smiles, so much love, you feel like you’ll just burst…
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Excerpt from “Love Needs To Be Real”
And those who have the most love to give
Will always see through this
Warm beautiful heart that radiates light
Will never be alone on a cold dark night.
You don’t see it, or feel it. You don’t get it.
The absence of romance tells you nothing.
No warm embrace, you don’t seem to miss it.
Intimacy barely existent, you don’t show any.
Nothing gnaws at you. Or does it?
I’m growling, screaming. Inside and out.
I’m indifferent… now.
The love died. It reeks sour.
You, the reason.
But maybe you never had it in you?