I see her — the wolf mother. I see her as I see myself. She stands, stoic; a look of fierceness in her eyes. She’s strong and beautiful; a blazon spirit, tender in heart. But do not dare threaten the young she protects lest you fall into her snare. You then will find yourself pitted deep below the peel of the earth. She will unravel you, slowly without equivocation, sinking her teeth within the flesh of you, ripping you apart. All that could sustain her she spits back out again, for no trace of evil must enter in. She is to remain pure and undeterred. She is the righter of wrongs. She is the wolf mother. She knows no other than to carry on.
Last night after I saw that I gained a few new followers since the poem I posted yesterday morning, I couldn’t help but wonder at who those people are. Who are you? Where are you? And how is it that I am able to connect with so many different people out there who I know absolutely nothing about?
I’ve always been shy about sharing my writing, especially when I worry it will expose my vulnerability and all those emotions I’ve never been allowed to have. Anger? What is that? Resentment? There’s no need to address those feelings. You just grin and bear it or so I learned.
Except that for me, I found other outlets. And writing was one of them. Talking about my true feelings to anyone has almost always seemed impossible. But writing about it, that’s another thing. I’ve always kept it to myself, however; I am a very private person. I guess maybe it’s fear of rejection. Nevertheless, I finally got the idea and the nerve to put it all out there for you, my (at least somewhat) faithful readers. There are like 47 of you! I know in the world of blogging that’s nothing. But let me tell you, I am thankful for every single one of my 47 followers.
The idea that I have “followers” is an odd one. Like I’m some prophet or messiah whose words other people seem to hang on to, sensing that within them there is a truth to be endowed. I quite like this idea actually, but alas I have no knowledge to impart. Or do I? Surely there is some truth hidden in my musings or else none of you would even bother to waste your time considering them. (Although, people have been known to squander their time doing far more senseless things.)
The point I’m trying to make is that I am amazed at how we are each able to connect with perfect strangers from all across the world. Parts of me floating along across the airwaves and into your home. Incredible! I am grateful for you, whoever you are. Whatever it is you gain by relating to my writing, I assure you I also feel just knowing you’re out there with your own struggles, your own share of heartache, your own moments of light that keep you ever hopeful for a brighter tomorrow. This is all part of the human condition. And what greater purpose is there for writing than to reflect on exactly that: that which makes us human?
I input my thoughts into a robot and it becomes accessible to other robots which you, my fellow human being, can access and allow to enter into your conscious awareness. This is the 21st century at its best — Using the technology we’ve discovered to provide opportunities to connect with others. From one human being to another, thank you for being a part of my journey. I wish you all the best as you reflect and write about your own.
Did you forget
your infinite divinity?
Did you forget
we all came from the same?
One begets more of oneself;
my particles replenish unto themselves,
every moment captured in my being.
how to pinpoint the beginning of it all.