Leylines
His solar plexus, sacral center
he said was where
his deepest wounds got cast
where his habitual pain lives
sometimes in unrest.
Mine too, she thought and
her hands lovingly twitched
wanting to gently touch
his core and the contours
of his wounds
while tracing the similar
on her own scarred stomach.
“strange”, conditioning and reason said in unison.
“common sense”, said mystery.
she leaned into the dark
and prayed, “go on mystery”.
“these are birthing leylines,
the energetic cracks that
need to tear
the skin of earth and men
only to become the portal
that brings the light in
and
your soul can perceive the sync,
feel the vibration matching
of both your pains
and of their healing,
the birthing light
is guiding your fingers to
trace his leyline to your own
to find their point of connecting
and once found
he and you, will sip, dip and play
in the power, magic waiting
to unleash therein.”
