First, they need to be collected, carefully, diligently,
And gently sorted, oh yes, don’t forget that bit.
Me, not me. Mine, not mine. This, not that.
A stray bone belonging to another won’t do all!
Once collected they get to be cleaned, thoroughly.
As you wash, notice how an honest retelling
of how they were lost in the first place emerges.
Tell it dear one, the Truth. All of it.
Let the grief, sorrow and rage be thrown
into the alchemical waters that are remaking you in this moment.
Now they get to be assembled, correctly this time.
The commitment: no more disjointed limbs.
No more sacrificing your real structure.
No more shape shifting
casting a grey shadow of horrible disfigurement.
That was never you.
Feel the tenderness towards the one who forgot.
An image, a constellation, a framework gradually starts to form,
The foundation of something you can call authentically You.
A remembrance of what it is to stand upright and proud,
Being held by this skeletal conduit of power that is your Birthright.
Standing on solid ground from which to live into your deepest mystery.
The collected bones settle in situ.
This place is home, the bones sigh with relief, they know it.
And the work begins;
Your voice rumbles from the marrow deeply embedded,
Protected by the bone itself to safeguard your original codes,
You sing over the bones, reanimating them
into a harmony with the Anima Mundi,
the Soul of the World.
The time has come to step out into the wilds of your true life.
Listening deeply to the pulse of Earths dreaming for you,
to experience this unfolding mystery at the core of your being.
It’s time, now go,
and know yourself as the embodiment of courage.