what healing my inner fledgling looks like
When everything was falling apart, from my rug-city of toy cars
to my parents' arranged marriage,
I raised myself.
I grew up fast,
too fast,
shooting up skyward like a dandelion wannabe to be the cycle-breaker mom/dad I never had.
And after all those years of repeated injury, I raised the seeming dead shards of me that had to rest in peaces at their own pace deep in my psyche's cellar to stay safe.
I cradled each jagged stormcloud in my hands until they all evaporated
back to their cumulus collective, palms now caked in ancient ash,
slipping between fingers like sand
and peppering a gray mound at my feet.
That day, I was rebirthed a fiery raven rising, with the vigor of my Phoenix ancestors surging up from my soles to my sahasrara¹.
the Sanskrit name for the crown chakra (meaning: "thousand-petaled"). The sahasrara controls our connection to universal consciousness, wisdom, and self-knowledge.
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