Making Space

I am surrounded with 

Material abundance.

I am in close proximity

To those I love.

I am nourished, clothed, healthy

and employed.

But, too much of anything can feel

Like pressure crushing in.

Has something caste a shadow

Over my internal sun?

Has the sacred

Begun to slip away?

Why so dramatic inside—

When outside seems exactly the same?

Perception can be 

Everything.

I am a unique, beautiful,

divine expression.

And—the mind battles and emotional waves

Continue to erupt beyond my control.

Perhaps I’m looking through too narrow

Of a lens for the evidence of spirit.

Is this set of circumstances 

Making space for what I am becoming?

The caterpillar has to die

As the butterfly is born.

I embrace this

Making Space.

I surrender my illusion

Of control.

I offer myself as a vessel

For divine expression.

I deliberately bring my focus back,

Demanding the sacred.

What is being asked of me?

I say yes to this next step.