After years of persistent inner-work based on the dream interpretation I started to unblock my throat chakra in 2019 (this blockage was a life-long problem that projected itself into the physical level in the form of frequent tonsillitis).
So at the beginning of 2019 I started to have dreams about writing poems and about some well-known poets “waiting for me”. I didn’t know what these dreams were trying to tell me until one morning I woke up with an idea to listen more deeply, like if there is a music playing in my head.
At first I’ve heard very specific rhythm and after a while I could catch matching words that were somewhere “in the air”. That’s how my first poem was born. I was surprised by this newly discovered ability, because it was extremely opposite from my logical and analytical mind of mathematician 🙂
So, I started to “channel poetry” from time to time. Of course, as an experiment I tried to create a poem by myself and it worked just like finding solution for the system of two mathematical equations. The result was “correct” (matching words endings, proper rhythm), but it sounded nothing like a poetry that comes directly from the soul, through the blue ray vibrations of the fifth chakra!
Since the beginning of worldly craziness in 2020, I almost stopped listening my “poetic channel” – just didn’t feel like that. But emotions, even the sad ones, when expressed in the form of art, can be therapeutical.
I’m sharing it here so that some of you may feel encouraged to work on your past traumas, to heal, to unblock yourself and to start listening – who knows what kind of gifts are waiting for you to be uncovered when your restore your energy flow!
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My native language is Russian, that’s why (I assume) I hear poetry only in Russian 🙂
Поведай мне, Боже, про жизнь и про смерть,
Про то, как уходят со сцены…
О том, как ослепнув от яркости, Свет
Отрёкся от собственной Тени.
Скажи мне, о Боже, зачем мы живём,
Не помня, не видя друг друга?
Зачем мы всё время кого-нибудь ждём,
Не в силах понять, в чём разлука?
А знаешь ли, Боже, как больно ступать
Не видя босых ног, по стёклам?
И знать, что, наверно, умеешь летать,
А вынужден ползать, умолкнув…
Послушай, о Боже, давай порешим,
Что будет открытой беседа:
Я выберу Правду среди сладкой лжи,
А ты отворишь створку неба.
Автор © Copyright: Рита Лев-ВесенняяRecommend0 recommendationsPublished in