Still A Work In Progress. . .

I know I am healing, because something that has been dead is now coming alive!

I am still a work in progress, and this written piece is still a work in progress.

Living in Darkness:

What is that peaceful sound I hear beaconing me to come near? As I crawl out of the darkness I find a beautiful red bird singing songs of love. I have never heard such a thing before. These words are so foreign to me. This beautiful creature tells me that the Creator of all made me wonderfully and beautifully.

Oh you must be mistaken. I am not like you. I was born and raised in a cold cruel dark pit. My mother hissed at me, and brought me dead things to eat. My father fought with my mother horribly, violently struck one of my sisters, and slithered away in the night abandoning us forever. My Uncle, the largest serpent of them all, wounded me deeply, and I was then so small. My mother instead of healing the hurt, covered it up, and made it worse. She hisssed, in the future, you will ssssee, you musssst attack firsssst, if you want to be sssstrong like me. We are all ssssnakes you know, and thisssss issss how it isssss when your family issss your foe.

Time to Fly:

As each new day went by the beautiful red bird brought me nourishing fresh fruit. It filled me up, and made me strong. She asked me one day, Why do you live in this cold, and cruel dark pit? I told her that a pit is where all snakes live. She told me to step into the light. But that light is sooo very bright. She assured me that it would be all right.

The light was so warm, and comforting, and after my eyes adjusted to the brightness she said to me, come sit up here with me under this Grand Tree. I told her that she was sitting on a branch way too high for me to reach. I told her that a snake could not climb a tree. She said, you were not made to crawl you were made to fly. Take a new look at yourself, and what do you see?

I see wings! Yes, wings! Dusty and dirty white wings they may be; they are still wings, and they're on me! She said, my dear little dove, you are not a snake, but a beautiful bird created from above. The Creator I told you about, He made you with love.

Go ahead little one let out your cry

Go ahead little one spread your wings and try

Go ahead little one it's time to fly!

As I look out of the pit, what do I see?

Gorgeous birds, all different spectacular colors encouraging me.

I am not like you, don’t you see?

I am dirty and filthy and plain as can be.

My wings are weak and I cannot sing. I am not worth it, let me be,

I just don’t belong in that Marvelous Tree.

Freedom Flight:

One-by-one they flew to me, so brave, so courageous, and so valiant as can be.

Opening their hearts, and telling me their stories of how they were once so empty, broken and wounded like me.

How they flew out of their ugly pits, and now are Free.

Their words are so loving, so encouraging, and so healing to me.

Their voices became one, as I heard them say, the healing is done, time to fly away.

It is true, you will look back and mourn someday, but now is the time to be on your way. Today is the day you are strong, today is the day you put right a wrong.

Spread your wings and take flight, look out for the serpent mother she may put up a fight.

Don’t turn your back, until she is at a safe distance for she may try to strike for her last evil reminisce.

Keep your destiny in sight, for you may experience some turbulence on your first flight.

Soar away, high, up high with all of your might.

This is where you were always meant to be, and now come live in the Majestic, Loving, Family Tree.

I never knew it was possible you see.

I never knew I could be so truly set Free.

Free from the darkness, and the shame.

Free from the emptiness, and not knowing my name.

copyright 2009 Soaring Dove