Healer

Through wakening light,

I watch the Stellars Jay,

Alight a branch,

I stoke the fire

Tending and dedicated

To generating warmth,

Admiring the winged one’s patience,

As he pecks carefully

To pull the sap heart

From the tree holding him.

And I feel my own heart

Soften and pulse,

As the pen pulls,

Words and images

From the page,

To be seen,

Parts hidden and trapped

Just moments ago.

It is like this for us, healers,

It is our call to unearth the dark,

To open the wound

For the healing

This time.

To gently pry at hardened scars

And soften them,

With the presence of 

Tending eyes that

Can still see

The little girl who twirled 

In innocent fields

The small boy who adventured

In woods

Under the whipping lines

She is there.

Under the closed mouth silenced

By the mother’s misplaced desires,

He is there.

In my heart

I have the patience of the Jay.

And in my reverence,

For the beauty I know

Is within,

I stay, 

I peck,

And I wait to gaze upon

The warm sap flow,

The golden flow 

Of the most sacred—

Unearthed human pain.

Like the second Jay 

Now arriving,

I am witness,

And this time,

In the opening

Wooded wound,

The small child is not alone—

Instead,

He chirps sweetly,

And perches to fly.

-Artemis Mandala