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Genevieve Ostara Poem
Why is it that when we are so hurt
we when can create the most beautiful masterpieces?
How we dream of being happy
but find complacencies and deny,
even ignore a need for an outlet?
Perhaps, I have never experienced a true level of pure bliss
A level where talent streams out of me
birthing a prized gem
I am so thankful for my creative escape, away from suffering
But I must admit it is ironic;
that it pours out of me in my most emotionally agonizing moments
I can only imagine, the amazing days when joy can have a volcanic effect
of bubbling and oozing
shooting up with a delight that streams off my pen to the paper
To physically be beaming as I create and compose my inner euphoria
in a paradisiacal state of mind
What heavenly words would my lips express through the incandescent smile fixed upon my overjoyed face?
With tears of elation gushing down my cheeks, splattering on my paper,
in place of the too familiar brokenhearted current ones
Would they taste different?
Perhaps my taste buds would savor the flavor of prosperity
So much sweeter than the salty ones I'm used to
One day I hope to know
I long to know how a full, adored heart feels in my chest as it beats
I bet it is much different than the empty, shallow flicker
I wonder if a rhythm of the pulse, with a healed heart sounds cheerful?
Like a favorite song that happily gets stuck in your head
I think it must sound loud and proud
as if it wanted to show off how whole,
completely filled with enthusiasm for daily life it is!
Yet for now, I can only pretend to know
I will keep imagining, trying to harness it
Until I am there
Then I will know with out question
Copyright © Genevieve Ostara | Year Posted 2020
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Genevieve Ostara Poem
My heart is depleting, it is becoming thin and fragile.
I can feel it slowly crumbling.
The pieces have started falling to the floor.
They instantly shatter.
I try to pick them up,
yet my fingers are sliced from the shards of black glass.
I want to collect all the pieces,
put them back together to make my heart Whole and beautifully alive again,
but I continue to slash my fingers wide open.
I’m unable to put it all back how it once was.
Without my beating heart I have no energy, no love to give.
I want to lay down and not think at all.
I don’t want the small fragment that is barley still dangling,
to fall and shatter,
continuing to building upon all the tiny particles below.
The Pieces on the floor are now soaked in blood and tears.
I feel I may never recover.
I no longer know who I am or why I am even here.
Everything seems lost, dark and horribly hopeless.
I pray that the one shred of this coal heart will turn pink and grow.
That somehow it can expand and create a new heart,
a stronger heart that will beat loud and full of pure love.
I have given myself healing time to process everything.
The tears from my eyes are finally dry,
the sliced fingers wounds are now healing.
I can see clearly now,
I look upon the lifeless broken pieces of my heart,
still clustered on the floor.
I can see that they no longer serve me.
My heart had turned so weak and frail because it was not reviving any love.
I put my freshly scabbed fingers to my chest,
to feel the flicker of the one piece of heart still hanging on.
I close my eyes and send pure love to it.
I realize I need to love myself and love my heart,
that is what it needs to grow and become whole.
Self love,
being completely excepting and fully in love with me is the answer!
It’s so obvious to me now,
I’m grateful for my old neglected heart,
it is no longer trying to survive off the love of others,
scared when it didn’t receive any,
for now I don’t need it.
I have myself and that’s who completes me.
I thank the shards as I sweep them off the floor,
my feet are now ready to dance upon where they once lay,
so thankful that the body I never thought would want to get up again is thriving,
flourishing once more!
Copyright © Genevieve Ostara | Year Posted 2020
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Genevieve Ostara Poem
He is,
A colossal anchor clenched to my ankles.
Constantly trying to drag me downward,
into the deep, dark sea of his beliefs.
I try with all my might to rise high,
to fly the sky, to explore the world and myself,
but every time I get lift off and start to feel the lightness of freedom,
I feel his grasp clamp down hard,
pulling me down deeper into the freezing, bone-chilling ocean.
Demanding I stay at the bottom of the icy and isolated sea,
giving all my energy, hopes and dreams to serve only him.
One day I will break free.
I will fly higher than ever before.
I will soar the beautiful crystal blue sky,
harnessing the ability to fully love myself.
Then share that love to help others;
The ones who are still trapped in the depths of their own painfully cold, sorrow-stricken seabeds.
To collectively skyrocket up towards the divine warmth of the sun,
with sensations of such pure love and liberation,
that before we only could dream such a minuscule percentage of.
Independence and adoration will become our forever, grateful new reality!
Copyright © Genevieve Ostara | Year Posted 2020
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Genevieve Ostara Poem
Dear little flower,
I see you
I watch you struggling daily
you are so fragile
the strong wind continuously pushing you
in any direction it wants
always knocking you down
You keep pushing yourself to get back up,
only to be smacked straight down again
Your stem is now weakened and bent
still you keep trying your best to stand tall and straight,
the way you once did
I see you getting lost in the bigger plants that now surround you,
you're always struggling to get some warmth from the sun
yet stay rooted in the shadows of the greenery,
as they unconsciously overwhelm you
I know your struggle never stops
Starting in the cold early morning with the freezing frost covering you
then through the blistering hot summer days
One would assume the breeze would feel good in such scorching weather
however what may be a light breath of air to one;
is a blast of wind so strong that it completely batters your gentle soul,
right to the burning blistering ground
I notice you continuously pulling yourself back up
surviving the days
only to then be alone and so cold during the frigid dark nights
I see you because I am you
I have been you
I know how you feel
I connect with you in this moment;
more than I connect with most humans
We are the same
we are connected on a cosmic level,
that unless one has personally been through
one simply can never understand
I am here with you
We are one
we will always get back up,
no matter how damaged our stems are,
or how deteriorated our petals become
Our Strength is our gentle and loving spirit
The struggle deep within the beautiful flower,
that one can not see simply looking at the outer beauty of the floret
We will always rise
I love you little flower
Copyright © Genevieve Ostara | Year Posted 2020
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Genevieve Ostara Poem
Poetry is my escape when reality becomes too much,
Recently poetry has become my crutch.
When I start to feel like I am drowning in the ocean
with arms too heavy to swim or make a motion.
I can pick up my pencil and paper and write it down;
Being able to release the anxiety, fear, and sadness is profound.
For so many years, I tried to keep everything locked deep inside,
Where nobody could find my real emotions alone, I would cry and hide.
The thought of everyone’s judgments and disapproval,
It turned into a deep depression and my complete social life removal.
My diary became my best friend,
Being able to release my emotions without worry or criticism was almost more than I could comprehend.
My journal was there for me day or night,
Anytime I Felt anger, I could write out my spite.
Anytime I felt sad, my hand could write through the tears,
Every emotion I had been keeping closed off for so many years.
Being able to get it out of my head and heart onto the paper,
It helped me release those lower vibrations; Now, I’m learning to stand as tall as a skyscraper.
If you’re going through a dark place or a hard time
Please consider journaling; I promise it will help over time.
It doesn’t have to rhyme or be perfect,
Just start to write and notice the inner conflict.
Once you have that written down, you can see what you have subconsciously concealed;
Then you have the secrets of your heart on what needs to be healed.
Please don’t give up; keep holding on with all your might.
Understand your shadows, transmute them, and then show the world your beautiful light.
Copyright © Genevieve Ostara | Year Posted 2022
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