The Spell is Broken

*Written while sitting in an oak tree.  For a man, I once knew as a boy*


The Spell is Broken (On Earning Your Metal)


That you are angry, feeling


That is a flash point in the dark

A spark

Of life

Beating, resilient, determined

A gasp when there could have been



Your story is your apothecary,

Contained potentiality

Worth sharing as

Rogue medicine

To heal, to be healed

To be heard


A resurrection call to self,

Wrest from your undoing,

To others, also

Bereft, unmoored.

Garnered from your initiation into the liminal

The in-between,

Place of the Wise, the Seers, the Way-finders,

Inured in grit, grime, substance


To feel is a creative, intentional act

To breathe is a creative, intentional act

Nurturing that spark,

Carrying life forward.

Choice of courage and vulnerability


Defeat, demise



You are alive,


worth of audition (hearing),

observation (seeing),


You are witnessed

Breathing that spark, that life

Once again into flame


May these words be a blessing for you

Know that you are valued

Know that you are sentient to love

Know that you are safe as you

Crawl, limp, walk, run

To the New Way that beckons you

Know that you possess the Happily Ever Afters

May you, with time, once again




Written by Dr. Allison Mitch, PT (DPT), RYT 500, reiki master, sexuality counselor and educator.

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