Poetry is Food

“When she looks back, that old young owl,

she sees that

her home, her tree

had become ravaged with wolf urine

and twisted with heat .

Curled and gnarled, she is unable to sleep there.

She begins to travel at night

because she cannot sleep in her home.

She doesn’t know what she’s lookin’ for

But she keeps goin’ and goin’.”

From Tracey Lindbergh’s novel ‘Birdie’

Shared in the book “Want” under a section called–

“What to do when a wolf has peed on your home”

I have returned home to a newly healed body after a chiropractic adjustment to my iliocecal valve released an ancient and primal rage from my psoas – the muscle of the Soul. Keep seeking your wholeness dear ones. Keep cleansing the lens though which you see the world. Be bold–

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