Prayer For Strength (August 3, 2016)

Goddess

I ask You

Most humbly

To grant me

The necessary power.

In dealing with

This darkness

That stains

My soul.

To resist

The temptation

Of accepting

Death's offer

For the last dance

Together.

To bring forth

My soul

Back

Into the light

Once more.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: For as long as, I can remember, I have never felt comfortable, inside of a Christian church, like I was trespassing. In one particular church, in southern Ontario, I felt like, I was walking over graves. Not sure, if this is, the by-product of my hyper-sensitivity to others, my heighten empathetic nature, or, the previous experiences, I have lived, in past lives. Please understand, I have nothing against those, who follow Jesus's teaching, but some have used their spiritual believes, to attack and condemn me, to Hell. Trust me, I have spent time, in Hell, and its not a place, I would wish on anyone.

Ghost Dancing (August 11, 2014)

Among the shadows

My feet move

Crossing the plane

Of life.

 

Shuffling

In and out

The memory stream

With each step taken.

 

Stirring up

Long forgotten sensations

While my body moves

Between consciousness

And the Dream World.

 

Searching for answers

To questions

Never knew

Existed.

 

Seeking guidance

And wisdom

Where chaos

And doubt

Rule my soulscape.

 

To unite

What was whole

Once more.

Therisa © 2014

Author's note: Written, as I suffered, through, a three month bout of agoraphobia, during the summer of 2014.

An Offering Of Hope (May 12, 2016)

"Hardest part

Of any creativity

Is coming up

With something new

Every time ."

-Therisa Godwaldt

If one listens

Very carefully

You can hear it.

A distance howl

Of a wolf matriarch

Who's crying

In pain.

At the abandonment

Of her words

During this time

Of need.

As anger

And frustration

Mount.

And yet

Sweet poetry

Flows through

The core of her body

Like a river does

Through a canyon.

True

At times

Our words

Will ebb and flow

Like the tides do

Upon the shore.

Bringing us

A different perspective

On the world

Around us.

As we try
To understand
The chaos
Of everyday life
With little success.

Forcing us

To have

The patience of Job

In decoding everything.

Please be

Ever so gentle

Upon yourself

'Til that eureka moment

Greets you

With your morning coffee

And newspaper.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: This is, my gift to Sherry Blue Sky. who requested that I post it, on my blog, as she struggles, with a prolong writer's block. Do hope, she finds her muse, once more, thus able, to share her unique spiritual writings.

Wednesday Morning Thoughts (April 24, 2013)

Peace

Silence of the soul

From internal fighting.

 

Harmony

Universal celebration

Of love.

 

Tolerance

Not another buzz word

Uttered by the political elite

To mask indifference.

 

Joy

Self-acceptance

Of one's self

Warts and all.

 

Hope

Binding glue

For all.

Therisa © 2013

Author's note: An earlier poem, I write, about 3 years ago.

Caught Between Two Worlds (February 3, 2016)

www.forward.com

Can feel

My emotions

Pushing forth

Beyond the barriers

I have built.

Wondering

As I question myself

For thinking

This way.

Am I

Delusional?

In my challenging

The status quo

That society has

So rigidly imposed

On those

Who are different.

In my wanting

And needing

To fully embrace

This change.

On the physical

And spiritual level.

Knowing

By doing so

I have become

A leper.

For those people

Who fear

And avoid me.

To do otherwise

Would mean

Continuing living

My life

As a ghost.

Moving through life

Unable to connect

With people

On a meaningful level.

Beyond

Being seen

As a pale shade

Of myself.

Neither

Fully alive

Nor

Truly dead.

Sadly

My own answer

To this question.

Is a shrug

Of my shoulders

And a frustrated sigh

As I move on.


Therisa © 2016




Author's note: Not exactly sure, why I wrote this, beyond this driving need, to do so. In having done so, I do feel, a tad lighter physically and spiritually. Either way, this probably, my most spiritual poem, in a long time.