Skip to main content

THE WARRIOR by Micellina

During a Chakra dance training course I was dancing to rhythms of the Solar Plexus chakra...

As I was honoring the energies flowing through my mind, body, and spirit, I created a mandala. Then a title came through spontaneously to call the Solar Plexus mandala “Sun Rising Out of Me Dazzling all of Humanity”. I starting to think of what dominant feelings or emotional energy surfaced from my focus on the Solar Plexus chakra and felt hope, strength, faith, victory, valor, integrity, leadership, compassion, devotion, focus, and sharpness.  

I then started questioning what the world and the Solar Plexus chakra were asking of me, and what message they were trying to help me become more conscious of?  How can I shine love and light from my life to best reach others around me?  Where am I being called to be for purposeful work? What is my vocation at this time to give to the world?  

Throughout that week, I took time to meditate on the mandala, reviewed my questions and reflections, and evaluated how it might help to give meaning and direction to my own life. I listened for messages of how I could bring balance to my solar plexus chakra and healing harmony to the world around me. After my mediation one morning, this poem came forth from my soul that I entitled later “The Warrior”.


The Warrior
by Micelllina 

The "V" in viva, victor, vivacious, shines forth from within me
A warrior of my song, a song of myself, the leaves of my grass
Victorious victor of humanity
Starting with the rise of the rays within me
Dazzling the sunlight of divinity
Tremendous sprinkling of green sea butterfly healed winging of yellow canary like singing
Bringing forth a freedom of the double rainbow-ed dance
Finding freedom in the 4 leaf clover by chance
Happening to step upon the warlike zone
Changing the directional tone
The reverse footing of the veteran at peace
Belted number of Vietnam wasted release
A lease on life
A life now motherless and free
A moment outside of her controlling anxiety
The warrior in me steps out
Taking the long story made short extra-long round about
Journeying warrior of light
Journeying the wrong and the right
Journeying light of the sun star moon
Home bound shamanic savior of living afternoon
Glorious balance of morning and night
Merging light-the sight-the might-the calling light
Veteran of the warrior's fight
Minus the war replacing the "I"
Roar lion of the morning, noon, and night
Roar with all of your might
Warrior light illuminating points of sheer delight
For all to hear what is the way, the truth, and the light
For all to steer into their own animal call
The warrior call, called, calling home birthed groan
Infant of the womanly warriors moan
Her yellow shining light shown
Her radiance known
Her life no longer on loan
Warrior come home




Micellina is a poetess, prophet, and healer whose writing reflects her belief in the goodness of this world and the greatness which is to come. Her work can be found within the realms of your own creative spirit and in the hands of giggling children.  She is inspired by the spontaneity and courage that youth bring to new moments and sees herself as a lifelong teacher and student.






~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

IMAGINE A WOMAN by Patricia Lynn Reilly

  This poem invites you to look upon yourself with loving kindness… Gazing at your own true reflection, you will discover that everything you have longed for “out there” is already within you! I invite you to love your creativity fiercely. Faithfully plant seeds, allowing under-the-ground dormant seasons, nurturing your creative garden with love and gratitude. In the fullness of time, the green growing things thrust forth from the ground. It's a faithful, trustworthy process. AND it takes time and patience.  Blessed is the fruit of your creative womb! I invite you to trust your vision of the world and express it. With wonder and delight, paint a picture, create a dance, write a book, and make up a song. To give expression to your creative impulses is as natural as your breathing. Create in your own language, imagery, and movement. Follow no script. Do not be limited by the customary way things have been expressed. Your creative intuition is original. Gather

IMBOLC by Caroline Mellor

The inspiration for this poem came after I watched a magical winter sunset and full moonrise from the top of Firle Beacon in the South Downs... Unusually for me, I wrote the poem quite quickly and changed it very little before publishing it – perhaps the energies were working through my pen! Imbolc is the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It’s a fire festival which I particularly love because of its associations with Brigid, the Celtic Mother Goddess of arts and crafts, clear sight, healing, inspiration and nurturance of creative talents – something which, through my writing, I am always trying to connect with.  I also love Imbolc because, with so much darkness and negativity in the world today, it is a time for hope, potential, visioning and initiation. With love and blessings as the light returns. Photography by Chanel Baran IMBOLC    by Caroline Mellor I am the dream of awakening. I am the returning of the night.  I am the tough green

WINTER SOLSTICE: A GIFT OF LOVE by Carolyn Riker

I’ve had several days now of alone time… It is unusual and a gift that I couldn’t see until I breathed it. I have been able to watch the sun’s rise through the grey of dawn and smile at the flickers of frost melting on the waving boughs of evergreen. It’s unique to follow daylight as it traverses the tempo of a cat’s soft slumbering purr. Night comes swifter and the glow of candles and the flames of fire comfort me more than the steady stream of always-doing-more. As much as I resisted, I needed this break. I had no idea how much my body was trying to tell me   slow down   until the exhaustion settled in around my joints. My eyes swam in molasses. Heaviness of I-can’t-hold-out-much-long, walked me to the throne of my nest. It’s winter’s gift of self-nurturing and love. It’s been a quiet proclamation of femininity and a need for comfort foods. Lemon crisps and cranberry, white-chocolate shortbread dipped in tea; I felt a hint of being pampered without