Winter air warns me that I do not own luck, even the sky, or even the tide—but only my next small step today, Winter air warns me that sorrow grows when I call those gifts my right, and these punishing storms for blowing again, Winter air warns me to breathe, name and identify my every part, and release the rest, let the sky move by itself today, Winter air warns me to have a small focus that brings calm, gives me room for care, and soft hands to work from here…
Street dust teaches me those deepest pain when I lift loads that are not meant for me but only for today, Street dust teaches me that those blames rolls back, hits the me the same face, and leaves a bruise that lasts longer, Street dust teaches me that eagerness to help starts inside first, then moves outward through open hands and steady acts, Street dust teaches me to drop the rope that tightens at my throat; but instead to choose breath, but to choose life instead…
Quiet rooms answer me when I ask where real control lives, in body and breath that held close daily, Quiet rooms answer me to hold your word, your breath, even your next steps; and let the rest go without guilt today, Quiet rooms answer: let storms be just storms, move with care, and protect your inner ground and don’t let go, Quiet rooms answer: no kind of enemy forms if you refuse to draw one with fear, again accept what’s inside today…
Closed hands releases when they learn that grasping only breeds new kind of pain and breaks sleepless nights, Closed hands releases envy when the weight lifts from your chest, and breath returns deep to warm purpose again, Closed hands releases blame when my mouth grows quietly and grows warm, and my eyes even soften toward life again, Closed hands release claims on others when my feet walk freely, steadily, and sure of today willingly…
Inner border holds when noise swells or rage knocks at dawn; Still, I willingly stay here inside safely, Inner border holds because I keep only what is mine, what is accepted for me, nothing more, Inner border holds; no kind of harm can cross without my clear consent and clear approval without any refusal, Inner border holds; I rule my own choice, and that is enough for my inner peace tonight and the rest of tomorrow…
Watchwords Keep to the small circle that you can truly trust today Drop the rope of blame; it wraps your own neck first Let storms be just storms; protect the grounding under your own feet Do that quiet work as it builds a shield that no thief can take Hold your breath and word; that is the part of you always
Here is Tikatarot, who dares you to answer the question, “Who am I?”..
As and will always be reminding you to dream:
“As you are still the Master of your destiny and the maker of your dreams…”
