WOUNDED BLESSING

Our world descends

Revealing roots rotting in what was.

La Blessure* the wound, the gift, the shift,

Opens vision to reveal

Laceration’s scars of grace,

 Blessings we must face.

Those broken by deception

Of power’s underground abyss

Beg to turn the page

 To where love exists.

Here, soul crafts seeks new light,

Reweaves fabric torn asunder,

Embraces harvest’s sacred promise,

Rather than our fungal blight.

Dear amber waves of grain grow tall

Feed diminished dreams grown small.

Calibrate the cost of hate,

Les blessures of regretted fate.

Hallowed be our bloody wounds

Informing where dear evil dwells.

 Release us to our Vodou power~

Life unfurled, unbound, transformed.

Dear brave new world, rise from core,

Open wide wisdom’s door,

Stand sacred now in heart repair.

What was ~Will be no more!

*La blessure is the French word for wound.  I particularly love its sound similarity with the word ‘blessing’ ~as all wounds are blessings when we turn to the hard work of healing, and grow new muscled-grace from the struggle.                                                       Samantha Cameron    July 4, 2025