poetry

My Gift to You. {poetry}

 

You don’t meet many people who are adopted. It’s kind of like when you meet someone who appreciates black licorice as much as you do. True story: I was adopted.

The look on people’s faces often goes something like this: First, a surprised, modest jaw drop. Second, the look turns to slight embarrassment that the conversation has taken a sharp turn. Then the perplexed Poor you head tilt. And finally, that Oh shit! what do I say? look.

I guess that’s why I’m an expert at diving into the deep shit right off the bat. Relationships for me have been challenging in all ways. The seed was planted on Day One. When my dear birth mom chose to abandon her courageous capitana position as my vessel to the earth.

This was the first rupture and the most impactful. My little soul learned that it was not safe to live in my body as an emotional, feeling being. My little soul thought I was not wanted in the world. My little soul thought I was not worthy of deep love.

This is my desire. In full bloom. Birthed from that Day One seed. To be met in unconditional love. Truly felt, heard, and seen in my wholeness.

I cast my gaze upon the horizon where my remarkable relationships rise and set.

My gift to you is a reclamation. A reclamation for me. A reclamation of my freedom, birthright and power.

***

You rescued me

Yet there are holes in our ship
Let’s fill them with gold
Cast boundaries through sunsets
step bold

I know you want me to feel endless joy

So listen close
while I share a dose

don’t leave me hanging
like all those times you were late to pick me up
like when you didn’t show
divided by discernment, naive ignorance or sin

life keeps giving me opportunities to mend this shit
and so it persists like an endless arm twist
Let’s heal our holes before they scar

What if your compass is my light and we took flight
beacons of hope
rolling in like tides of truth

don’t miss this gift
how many times can we misalign before I sail ship?

I’m not a prisoner of my wounds

hey hey
Souls, are you listening?

give me love
give me light

What if your compass is my light and we took flight
beacons of hope
rolling in like tides of truth

I’m sick of quieting my voice when you leave me at bay
I showed up
I’ve gifted you with my light
and you’re still fucking up
How many chances before this ship turns to ashes?
How many chances before my desire wanes like the moon
a fading connection
half full of hope?

That quiet well-behaved girl found her voice
calling out in the night echoing her distress
don’t miss this gift

This is a beckoning of hearts
A longing for love
A braiding of bonds

I want to grow like this
untying the knots that bind the past to present

this is the work
It may not be easy in these fierce currents
but it’s what you do for love

Sails lift, dawn breaks
we own our mistakes
Embrace this gift

mend our wounds
weave the gold to enrich our lives.

***

Luana Rose is a practical mystic, spoken word artist, educator and fancy dancer. As a Holistic Sex and Relationship Coach specializing in trauma resolution, Luana is fascinated with human potential and the marriage of how stress affects the body and our sexuality. She helps you be the truly remarkable human, which is your birthright. Her work is to guide you to get to know your nervous system, where all those mental, physical and emotional blocks can hold you up from embodying a deeply fulfilling life both inside and outside the bedroom. For the past five years, she’s helped clients embody unshakable confidence, supercharge their energy and prioritize pleasure and play in their lives. She lives in Vancouver, Canada, and is the proud auntie of five lady chickens. She works with clients out of her private practice and via Skype. You can connect with Luana through her website, Instagram or email.

***

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