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Healing Our Hunger

Imagery and Poetry for Ending Food Insecurity

By Barbara L. Chapman

Freedom to Be with Gentle Breezes and Birdsongs

The air is refreshingly cool this morning even though the sun is bright . I savor and relish in this mornings when I don’t have to go rushing off .

The morning quietness is a freedom all its own . Freedom from the harsh sounds of this world’s man made demands . Freedom society’s pushes and pulls . Freedom from the dictates of ego and one’s not your own .

Awakening gently into a new day of birdsongs dancing through the air and with light , cool breezes ever so subtly caressing the awakening joy of the freedom to just be .

The toils and turbulence of yesterday’s work day are nearly gone and in its place a quiet, deep peace .

What is freedom if it is not to awaken every day knowing that you can be who your are .

Gentle breezes and birdsongs and loving contemplation is my freedom today .

Does a Soul Choose …

A new life arrives . She is given away . Is the first experience of this life one of trauma ? Aside from the one of leaving a safe womb does the separation from her beginnings of life impact her sense of comfort and trust ?

She is born with a trusting heart no matter the circumstances . She loves deeply , so deeply that it surprises even her .

Welcomed into a home , into a family , that wants to be what it is not . There is love . There is love that battles within itself and with it’s own brokenness . Her love , in innocence , rises to the surface in moments of celebration . Like when she awakens first thing every morning , before opening her eyes , then is a joyous smile across her face. Did her soul choose to know the indescribable ache while also choosing to carry a joy filled heart and an ever replenishing trust ? The brokenness of the family integrated more trauma into her original wound and in quietness she finds a healer , herself . Did her soul choose ?

And in her quietness she sometimes dreams of knowing wholeness . Enchanted by the sight of the moon and the stars she finds a sense of rootedness in them . And when she is near water and it’s powerful timelessness then she feels held by the breath of all life past , present and future .

Space for New Dreams

The light is delicate tonight and the breezes cool. Someone not too far away is

listening to a soprano singing opera . The sounds drift faintly in the air as I watch the

evening light dance with with shadows before calling it a night .

It’s the sort of peaceful , summer night that soothes the soul and invites a restorative

rest .

New dreams are given space to arrive in the subtle , warm glow of the setting sun .

The Winter’s Dream

The longest night has come and the light slows it’s beating heart . Rest into your dreams and warm your spirit with peaceful twirls turning into sleep .

The longest night has come and brings promises of new light . Lean into the winter’s darkness and feel the quiet inside of your heart’s sight .

The longest night has come and sings lightly to awaken your patience and creates stirrings of hope .

The longest night has come and invites you warm yourself in a blanket and to tenderly create visions of whats to come .

The Man in the Tower Hiding

A comet soaring through the sky  wishing  away worries from the earth below .

It’s only for  moment .

Fires of the quest for justice burn ….and burn .

And those few that are untouched and are  so far away from the pain just scold .

And blame .

The man in the tower hiding  the darkness behind false  whiteness   steals souls and

glows red .

And tosses raw flesh to his spectators .

Unrealized is the relentless power of the will to do right . It won’t stop .

The birth of reawakening in the heart and spirit of  warriors  in our streets come

together as one .

This battle is not done .

 

Above the Gases

How to see through the smoke ?

Soldiers in streets uninvited ,  The people rising . Higher  than gases .

Division , is it’s fate to become unified ?

Human history as a recipe repeated .

We will take back our sovereignty .

 

Tears are Not Enough . Period .

Born white and free

and

in ways i did not see .

Until I became a latch key child  .

As I grew I rebelled against the white cocoon

and paid a price for it .

Not as dear  though as the price paid by African Americans

to simply live .

Or rather …not to live .

What good are my tears for you ? I must use my voice and body to join with yours .

Lead me through this battle with you

and

lets make lasting change .

Healing

When the broken bits arise from your heart  and ask for healing will you welcome them ?   Love them  and  accept them  and then the peace will come .  in time , more and more , the peace of acceptance and love will grow  .

Every part of yourself deserves the healing of  love .  The freedom to live in the sureness of acceptance and generosity  . When the heart is open and with out self imposed  restraints  the beauty of living flows like a glorious  river .  Healing and abundant  lifting us all into a state of grace .

The Freedom of Surrender

I surrender to the passions and longing of the creative processes planted in my spirit .  The seeds planted long ago before I knew myself and before I knew the freedom of surrender .

She calls to me at all hours and asks only that I listen . And when I listen I am moved to create and to give and to explore .  Step outside of what you’ve grown accustomed to and outside of judgment  placed upon you  and travel inside the the infinite spaces of your heart .

See the stars and bright lights of planets set into motion before you were a whisper …or were you a whisper in the life of a star and now here you are .

The beauty in your  kindness echoes throughout the ages and the love that flows freely from your heart is felt throughout the world beyond any measurement  known to man .

‘Release’ soft chalk pastels 2012
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