Clare Shamer Miller. My Beautiful Moma Spirit gone now for 11 years. I see her in all the beauty of all that is, the lonely bird awaiting to hear the call, knowing the essence of that which is you, is always near.
Friday, August 21, 2020
The scream inside, the true self stuck in a cage wanting to get out, I have the key, paralyzed unable to unlock, witness, watching, waiting for the shift, when my eyes can see and the silence returns, the peace does come most days, on the days it does not, I wonder why, why do I allow it, knowing I am powerful, yet I suffer as I hear the noise, waiting, for this shall pass, it always does, and so it shall be, namaste.