how to eat your shadow

Inner landscapes are inscrutable
when we lose ourselves
and hunger for what we cannot have.
But our suffering is not eternal.

Approach spiritual banquets with humilty.

Burn incense, chant softly,
breath deeply, reflect often.

After the grief, after the weeping,
wait for the dawn.
Walk to the shore of the great River.
Submit yourself to what you can’t control.

Kneel on one knee and then the other.
Be patient, allow the pain to subside.

Palms together, lean forward
touch your head to the earth.
Close your eyes.
Feel the teeming mystery
which pulses beneath you.

Plant yourself, seed-like, you will not die.
Like a sapling, these unmetabolized shadows
will become food for new life.

Surrender your old wounds. Taste the earth.
Make a final meal of your sorrow.

Understand with surety what until now
you knew only in seperation.
Light always holds darkness within itself
a womb of secret knowledge,
a kin reflection open to those who seek.

Allow it to gently cradle you
in your gestation. Trust it’s presence.

Light and darkness are inseperable
marinated in the alchemical vessel of the heart.

April 20, 2018
c. m. brooks

~ by christinambrooks on April 27, 2018.

2 Responses to “how to eat your shadow”

  1. Your poems are so beautiful and mystical. I’ve enjoyed reading them. I’ve loved poetry since I was 10 yrs old and I’m now 66 yrs old. Keep writing your beautiful poems.

  2. thank you.

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