Will you… Hold my hand for a little while? I don’t need you to save me No need for you to fix anything No need for you to hold my pain But will you simply hold my hand? I do not need your words Your thoughts Nor your shoulders to carry me But will you sit here for a while with me? Whilst my tears they stream Whilst my heart it shatters Whilst my mind plays tricks on me Will you with your presence let me know that I am not alone, whilst I wander into my inner unknown? For my darkness is mine to face My pain is mine to feel And my wounds are mine to heal But will you sit with me here, while I courageously show up for it all my dear? For I am bright because of my darkness Beautiful because of my brokenness And strong due to my tender heart But will you take my hand lovingly, when I sometimes journey into the dark? I don’t ask for you to take my darkness away I don’t expect for you to brighten my day And I don’t believe that you can mend my pain But I would surely love if you could sit for a while and hold my hand, until I find my way out of my shadowland! So will you… Hold my hand until I return again?”~
~Zoe Johansen ~
Posting this poem as it is so fitting to the moment captured above between my dad and I on his last day here on Earth🙏
From a simple ritual To the practicing yogi, The one hundred and eight beads Constitutes a time for intentional focus.
Initiated in the 8th century BC, These spiritual beads in Hinduism Now are used through Islam, Christianity Buddhism, 2/3rds of the world’s population.
Whether wood, seed or stone They shall deliver Properties of healing, protection And most commonly, spiritual practice.
I gift this to you, So you can intentionally Breathe 108 times With vitality, feeling vibrancy.
Speak a mantra Drawing you inwards. Feel the earthly element Connecting you to Mother Earth.
Simply put, I wish you 108 blessings, 108 guardians, 108 freed moments Each and every day.
May you hold this mala With the clarity it was made, With the love it is sent, And wisdom with which you shall use.
They say it’s important To acknowledge your feelings, Mine burn deep Searing like a heated knife.
Sadness, disappointment Futility mixed with Mayhem and barbarianism The anguish insufferable
Simultaneously we are Isolated, quarantined Where will this all end?
Man’s eye like a microscope, Disproportionately viewing life Distorted by imagination Enlarging the illusion.
With no regard For the ‘third’ eye, Where lies his clarity Abundant and beyond compare.
I pray for a united return Of humanity, Kindness and peace Simple joys.
Where greed, power Egotism are quelled voluntarily, As realized that we are nothing But dust in the end.
Yet here we are, Kings and queens In a moment in time, And granted pleasures in multitudes.
What can be that deciding factor Whether we live in peace and harmony Or divided and disgruntled?
Gazing up into the sky The sun, moon and stars peacefully Focused, levitate and orbit Constant in their mission.
Down here on earth I see the equilibrium of nature, Of which I am a part With a privy to consciousness.
Herein lies my blessing and solace, For not only can I sing and dance along, But also acknowledge the Orchestrator The One to whom I benevolently belong.
Dignity, driven to be attained by stature,
Letters behind the name
Certificates on the wall
Climbing the corporate ladder.
For some,
Dignity is synonymous with pride.
Endorsed by accolades and ‘likes’
Possessions and privileges.
Does more of anything
Really equate to dignity?
Perhaps to stand in front of a mirror
And look yourself in the eye.
Who is this person?
When stripped of titles, material possessions,
Even the relations of family-hood.
Dignity, is perhaps not a quality
But a by-product,
When one is able to have a sense of
Self worth and respect.
Should dignity not belong to all?
Despite circumstances of wealth
Identity of race, religion or sexual orientation.
How did we lose sight
Of our commonality?
And focus on only our differences?!
When the macro sphere has been reduced
Lost is the vision of the universe
Where we exist for less time than the snap of the fingers
And matter no more than any other dust.
Our vision has narrowed
And our true gift left unseen,
As we are held in the palm of existence
And bestowed with the dignity of life.
This is our identity
Life from the giver of life!
Can we accept the greatest of gift?
Do we recognize its preciousness!
To be granted this opportunity
This is what equates to self worth
Beyond any measure of wealth.
With this said,
Each man is equal
Being granted his time and opportunity
Of this here lifetime.
Allowing this to resonate,
Dignity then emanates from within
For oneself and every other living companion,
No matter the outward differences.
You arrive and greet
This morning of Rakshabandan.
As always, in full bloom
With unequivocal light and love.
This symbolic yellow rose
Stops me in my tracks
As you, brother, embodied
It’s rich depth and warmth.
Saving me from my sorrow
I see how love transverses all.
Physically no longer side by side
Yet our spirits still unite.
Our bond is clear
My brother dear,
As you remain with and between us,
Your loving sisters.
Today is Rakshabandan, the day of celebrating the bond between a brother and sister. The yellow rose is the symbol, my two sisters and I chose, that represents our departed beloved brother, Dipak.
From an unknowing third party, what should the universe send my way today of all days, but a yellow rose surrounded equally by three buds! What an image of our sibling unity!
rhythmandthedancer 