We Belong Here: The light inside.

A Poem on healing, faith, and connection

“We belong here and deserve to dream.” Xavier Rudd

Retreated to my Home for rest, after YEARS of not resting, nor realizing my Home was myself.

A sickness/cleanse (depending on perspectives) forced me to hibernate away from it all for 6 days — the same amount of time God is said to have created the world.

Tonight, I am reminded of my recovery. Healing from this sickness. Healing from control. Healing from it all.

Tonight, I notice I am stronger. I am clearer. I can finally breathe.

Tonight, I am once again able to walk along the earth, watch the sunset, and notice a sea of birds, sprawling with conviction.

Two crows branch off. They zig and zag overhead, land on an electrical wire, then peer inside my soul.

I feel their reassuring stares, below.

As these tantalizing rebels perch and mingle, I am reminded of a quote from one of my favorite movies, Harold and Maude, when Maude tells Harold a story about a French-Jewish, political prisoner who reveled in the sight of “glorious birds” flocking outside his cell window, only to find out later “that they were only seagulls.”

“To me, they will always be glorious birds,” Maud adds.

I laugh at the thought, amused by this spiritual pair, their heads facing towards the sinking sun, giggling at the fuchsia clouds above.

It took me a while, but I finally understand that they, too, are indeed, GLORIOUS birds.

I continue to walk along backyard soil, toes squelching pockets of Florida sand: residual traces of life.

With the setting sun behind me, illuminating through raven-dark trees, I look up to thank the universe: for my healing, for my soul, for my light, for my day.

I am awestruck when I see the moon, floating and grand, like another dimension transcending through time, strikingly parallel to the sun.

It is then, when I turn my head, left to right, slowly digesting the stumbled-upon miracle.

For it’s the first time I have ever stood –simultaneously in between– the magnetic Force of a rising satellite and a falling star.

The presence intensifies, as my gaze shifts to my fence wall, where a reflection of light and shadow form a halo-like symbol, floating in peace.

I choose to pause and bathe in this coexisting orchestra of birds, sun, moon, me.

It is then I surrender and tell the light, “I just want to be good. I just want to be enough,”

comfortably, like we have known each other forever, and frequently carry out such “typical” conversations.

A reassuring whisper immediately seeps and spreads, radiating all throughout my being, magnifying my soul, like interloped trajectories from skaters on ice.

And, it is then, I hear the meaning, and I feel the words:

“You already are.”

Like this poem, read more by the author below: