i saw you before you were born. the interview went well. you were optimistic towards the opportunity ahead.
although all the suffering baked into this cake was unappealing, wholeness of being beckoned.
despite western ways to be forced on an eastern soul, despite aggravated assault in the capitalist moshpit, despite countless insipid efforts towards persona redux, and begging martyrs of grave emotional toxicity, you would not resist the call.
you bravely went under the spell of your god, and i watched on edge as they cleared your cache and robbed your memory bank, ritual washing you.
then they dressed you in snow white linens as your affect went flat. baby powder and the shaving of head.
you will do well in America, they told you. you looked at them blank. confused but so willing. tears suddenly welled up my eyes and placed you safely inside
one saltwater drop. after you left me, my love, i carefully swept up your off-color locks. with my hands.
tearful i took up the salt and pepper remnants of my one true love of this life. on my knees now.sweeping.
weeping. i held you soft in my hands there, and ritually cursed the insipid god who i believed at that moment, responsible for this.
our unchained tragedy.
my uprooted life.
thus played out my own true story of so-called personal growth, and self-hepless was i. amen
the first life. somewhere in the former soviet union. daughter to a cossack warrior. mother died at birth. moved to st petersburg and learned the city.
the second life. germany. a boy. an aryan specimen. father was a treecutter in the black forest. mother was an.herbalist. everyone apolitical and thus good-natured.
third life. unknown. ended in miscarriage. time in womb was rough, as mom was falling victim to the machinations of a cruel and heartless world. stress levels caused an chemical imbalance which turned deadly.
fourth life. Paris. daughter to a Huguenot. the dove hangs from the symbol. this is how i remember. a good life. parents artisans. life steeped in loving wonder.
around this time, my creative energies, once dormant and passed over for to meet the great thirst of survival, were planted. seeded for future manifestation.
many lives later the blossoming of creativity encompassed my being, and strengthened and fortified an otherwise tenuous grip on life and sanity. a portal opened up to a great and spacious flowering, imbued with fine tuned intuitions and novel purpose.
in this world now, the magic has culminated. rooted in compassion. ancestral stories to be told. shared to help turn the darkness to light, everlasting.