6/9/2021 0 Comments Seedlings (phoenix poem)“Here,” I said my child palms showing you the things I loved the things that shook my heart more alive you smacked my hands my cherished things falling into dirt “No!” you screamed in my face “Not allowed Not allowed Not allowed” to love these things means you are wicked so I put them away I hid them for years my greatest crime that I forgot them but they didn’t forget me they stirred like seeds in soil on a warm spring day so when I evicted you from my heart and made space for loved things to grow when your winter cold left my bones they could feel the sun again when I saw their leaves I knew I would never allow your frost to destroy them ever again © Theresa Blackwood, 2021. No part of this site, www.theresablackwood.com, may be reproduced in whole or in part in any manner without the permission of the copyright owner.
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Theresa
is a book, tarot, and astrology nerd / a bleeder of ink (if you haven't heard) / and a shadow alchemist firebird. ArchivesCategoriesAll Astro Ode Encouragement Infusible Magick Love Letter Magick Thieves Matters Of The Heart Phoenix Moments Pluto Poetry Reimagined Fairy Tales Sobriety Story Theresa's Musings |