As an infant my first trauma
was the disappearance of Mother;
and still an infant in me
is desperate for that first connection,
wounded by its failure,
and fearful of the next.
How much of my work, my prayer,
my friendships, my flirting,
my shopping, my rage,
my taking command,
are tendrils of that vine,
the ache of that first wound
of wanting that holy oneness,
the deepest belonging,
and not knowing where to find it,
not trusting that She is right here?
She is right here.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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