Home in this world is my Self.
The Self that houses the spark of God’s divinity.
My Self, my Soul,
where the Holy of Holies resides.
It is that which is easily obscured from sight;
that which is drowned in the din of materialism.
But if I can see this sacred vessel within me
I will be able to appreciate
its presence in others,
in animals,
and in all things.
And then I shall be free.
-2014
The sea turned red with the blood of 250 pilot whales
slaughtered in the Faroe Islands in Denmark…but the carnage continues
and more whales will be slaughtered.
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The slaughter makes my heart ache. Good piece, Rosanna.
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Sadly, it goes on…thanks Suzanne
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Beautiful poem. Rosanna, and true. We have to dissociate from our bodies, hearts, minds, and souls in order to turn the sea red.
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Thanks, Diana….I would rather though that the sea remain blue and not red from blood.
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Of course. The photo is horrifying. It’s hard for me to imagine standing there and not screaming.
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And I wish there were more like you who had not disassociated from their bodies, hearts and minds…brings to mind your soul thief concept…thanks
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