Wounded Child: no more

The energy spikes from your back,
Pricking the air,
The wounded child resorts to..
Undermining all there,
Cowering in fear,
Rejected by their own thoughts,
They wallow in what could of been,
When they could be right here.

The wounded child remains
Attached to the fairytale,
Wanting to be the glorified hero,
Without doing anything,
They wait for the golden spoon,
To deliver their dreams,
Hiding from the reality,
That there is more to living.

So drawing upon strength,
They recognise their attachment..
To obsolete archetypes..
That no longer exist,
And with the sword of Michael..
They shatter the bonds,
The golden light of Raphael sealing
Them back to where they belong.

Responsible and trustworthy,
They manage their own peaks and troughs,
Self regulating with boundaries,
They are met with unbridled love,
The myths they once sought
Are forgotten, no longer exist,
They see their life for what it is,
Truly a Gift


About R Congues

Funny enough, this blog has become the expression of my hopes, dreams, love and experiences. It came about because of the situation I discovered I was in, and I am delighted to see it grow and heal into something different: I am a parent of two children, one who has experienced severe anxiety that became disabling in all aspects of their life. I am a teacher of Maths, Science and Religious Education with a Masters in Special Needs Education; I am a qualified Reiki master, with a love of art and creative experience. I am not a professional in the fields of psychology or medicine. (If you are interested in these perspectives there are many internet sites to use.) I am simply expressing my experience in my own unique way.
This entry was posted in Change, Connections, Energy, Healing, Love, Poetry, Relationships, Spiritual connections and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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