Linda Pettit

I burn to heal, discover, and create.
I burn to grey ash, to sticky dust, to gritty sediment.
I burn all that I am not.
It sinks into the mud.
It mucks the bottom.
It shrivels to nothingness.
It becomes the ground of Being.

I am the Muse.
I infiltrate the author’s keyboard.
I sneak into the writer’s pen.
I impregnate the artists’ brush.
I crack the sculptor’s marble.
I penetrate the lover’s body.
I permeate the loved one’s skin.
I saturate the healer’s heart.
I filter into minds
hindered only by the sleep of dreamers.

I express.
I express who I Am.
I express what I SEE.
I express into the dark unknown.
I fill the vacuum of tomorrow.
I am the Word, the Voice, and the Heartbeat.

I incinerate broken dreams.
I incinerate decimated innocence,
I incinerate harsh utterance.
I incinerate blind perceptions.
I incinerate the weapon of judgment.

I leap over betrayal.
I leap over grief.
I leap over broken bodies.
I leap over quantum injury.
I do not acknowledge I can’t, I won’t, I’m not good enough, I’m too small.
I do not brook insecurity, faint hearts, or broken minds.
I test limits, tolerance, and treacle.
They are not of me.

I remake off kilter and rotted beliefs.
I remake injury and imperfection.
I remake disaster.

Splintered dreams,
cracked hopes,
fiery wrinkles,
blindside fissures?
Thresholds!

I scramble over them with cleats.
I abrade them of dead skin.
I cleanse them of gangrene.
I scrub them raw, pink, and vulnerable.
I shower them
with the medicine of kindness,
the liniment of forgiveness,
the largess of compassion.
To scab, to re-group, to re-grow.

I am disruption.
I engender dread and trepidation.
I wreak havoc in stultification.
I disrespect unconscious order.
I bring the cry of a million voices to injustice.

I will not rest
until I have mended
the smallest fraction,
the tiniest iota,
the most minuscule speck
of hurt
in the collective,
the aggregate of history,
the fabric of the human soul.

I long for you,
the wilt of the droughted rose,
the shrink of the constricted wallflower,
the mockery of the empty page.
I long for you in the water of Love
the cascade of life
and the sluice of words.

I burn for Love.
I burn with Love.
I burn to Love.
I burn, a dancing star.
I burn, a swirl of galactic light.
I burn, a sacred heart.
I burn, a trillion tiny sprinkles of goodness scattered
to the distant corners of a universe in fetal distress,
a universe not yet born,
a universe not yet imagined.
I am with you.
I am in you.

There is not one second,
one fragment of a moment,
one half-beat on your heart
that I am not expressing that I AM.

Retract in awe.
Genuflect to your shadows,
Humbled magnificence. Echoes.


Linda Sandel Pettit, Ed.D, uplifts the intuitive creativity, the hearts, voices, and words, spoken and written, of women in the helping professions.  Through enchanted, bold service, she influences, encourages, and supports other healers to be brave and visible in their service to Love. She offers individual consultations, group programs and copywriting/editing services. Find her on the web at:

www.lindasandelpettit.com
www.thedrspettit.com

Linda Pettit

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