Devotion

Awakening

/ Chloe Kyle / 2 Comments

A part of me wants to stay curled up under the cover,

Eyes tight shut,

To block my ears from the jostle of noise,

To hide from the starkness of light.

fszalai

A part of me wants to wallow in the sticky goo of victimhood,

Enshrouded in pain, grief and shame,

Entrapped in stale beliefs and worn-out concepts,

Of how to play the game of life.

My truth, my essence, is bold and courageous,

She fiercely yearns to live in freedom,

She knows of the magnitude of Love deep inside,

And delights in sweet, tender glimpses of liberation.

Grace nudges me to gently pandiculate my weary body,

To hold His hand as I face the seeds of resistance, 

To be responsible for tending the wounds, 

And loving myself full—to grow.

I call into the deep expanse of my being,

And feel a powerful upsurge of Love wash over me,

Soaking into every cell in my body,

Scintillating, radiant, enlightening.

I sense the cover, these layers of illusion, 

Slip gently away,

Such sweet surrender to be reborn.

To uncover who I truly am.

I open an eye,

And rise.

Comments welcome.

A Scream of Swifts

/ Chloe Kyle / Leave a comment

Some days I feel stuck, rooted to the ground,

Both feet ensconced in wellies sucked into squelching mud,

My mind heavy and slow, absorbed in the mundane,

My heart weighed down with grief and sorrow,

My soul unable to lift myself out of the muck and mire.

Danshutter

Today this gloom is broken by a rush of displaced air,

As a scream of Swifts glides through the sky.

Their piercing calls demand attention.

Black crescent-shaped silhouettes arc and dive overhead,

Their aerial gymnastics a display of vibrant ease and grace.

How is it these intrepid voyagers from far off shores,

Sleep, eat, bathe and mate on the wing,

Replacing the vulnerability of being grounded,

With a life of perpetual motion.

Adapting and pivoting with the natural dynamics of nature?

Could I too, raise my awareness sky high,

Keep it aloft in the realms of the divine,

Withstand the inevitable battering by winds of change,

Downpours of perceived misfortune, storms of anger or grief,

And rise above it all again and again in a never-ending spiral of grace?

I reach up to the kernel of divinity within,

Draw from it the faith, truth and love,

That bring joy and reverence to the way ahead,

And pull my wellies out from the mud.

Comments welcome

Self-Worth

/ Chloe Kyle / 4 Comments

Who told you that self-worth is a reward to be gained,

A career to be climbed, a family to tend to, 

A house to maintain, good deeds to be done. 

A colourful array of bright badges to pin on your chest?

N. D. Vector

It’s simply untrue: upside down, inside out.

Self-worth can’t be garnered in this outer world of endeavour.

It’s the most precious, innate seed of divinity,

Imprinted in the depths of your unique essence.

Life is your invitation to unravel the layers of illusion,

Of what you are not: a wife, husband, parent, sister, brother, teacher,

A gargantuan task of unlearning habits, shedding concepts,

In order to awaken to the luminous gift that you are.

Precious One, find this magnificent sacred treasure within.

Nurture it with attentive devotion.

Make life a practice of becoming,

A Presence reflective of your true potency.

Play your part in divine creation.

Value your worth, 

Unlock your wisdom, your power, your love,

And shine your truth on the world.

Comments most welcome

The Threshold

/ Chloe Kyle / 1 Comment 
Leave your boots at the door, my friend.
The dirt from past roads travelled is not needed here.
Toss your hat to the wind,
And all those thoughts in your head,
The heavy ones you dwell on too often,
And those earthly desires that hook you in.
BluebackIMAGE
Hang up your coat on that peg.
Cast aside your cloaks of identity.
That shabby jacket of unworthiness,
Or the sharp suit of vanity.
Neither one is truly you.
The fire inside will bring warmth enough.

Put down those bags you clutch so close,
Burdened with grief, bursting with misplaced loves,
Even that small pouch of shame you tuck away.
Let’s go through them together, the pain and mistaken joy.
Allow me to help you leave them be,
You will feel lighter without them.

This is the threshold you cross,
Where you shed all you thought you were,
And become what you truly are.
Free your feet and your soul, my dearest one.
Take my hand. Let us listen only to the music of love.
Enter my house and dance.

If this post resonates with you, I’d love to hear, do comment.

The Playground Within

/ Chloe Kyle / 8 Comments

There is a bully in this joyless playground,

A tyrant who throws deep belly punches of guilt and shame,

Who slings buckets of mud, sullying me with cruel words,

For not being a better mother, daughter, teacher, friend, lover.

This false friend, who took me under his wing,

Led me on a merry dance of half-truths and false promises,

Dazzled me with dream jobs, exotic travel, fun relationships,

Now shows his rage. And I cower, eyes tight shut, into a ball.






Until, a soft, tender whisper of Love warms my aching heart. 





For I say no to this unending Ferris wheel of outer experience,





The sorrow, pain and despair of these enticing dead-end trails,





The wrath of mind’s tantrum in the face of Truth.










I step aside from the terrorising shadow of my oppressor,





For I am not the hateful coward he would have me be.





I gaze up into the Radiant eyes of my lover within,





Whose warm illuminating rays give me a glimpse of my divinity.










In the scintillating clarity of this graced moment,





All fear, doubt, regret, confusion melt away.





I stand tall, a beacon of Love and truth shining from within,





And with the heart of a lion turn to face my foe.










My tormentor rears his head and puffs his chest,





Then shrinks before me, a mere trompe l’oeil,





His waggy tail, fluffy paws, and doleful eyes,





Beseeching me for love and discipline like an unruly child.










The concrete playground becomes a summer meadow,





Alight and alive with buttercups, poppies, bees and butterflies.





I cartwheel, somersault and tumble with joy, in this Eden within,





The tyrant, a mere puppy dog, nipping playfully at my heels.










If this poem resonated with you, feel free to comment…

			

	


			
				


	

							
The Master Puzzler
						

			 / Chloe Kyle						 / Leave a comment
								

			


		

		
Life is a giant jigsaw,


Thousands of motley shaped pieces;


 Work, family, home, hobbies, relationships,


I try to fit neatly together.


two hands connect the puzzle details, against the sky of the sun.
Image: stock photos


Constantly, I search for the next piece,


A new job, home, dress, diet,


To create a better picture,


Of what life should look like.


 


As I strive harder to find the right one,


To wedge that perfect looking job,


 Into other ever moving parts,


A growing sense of unease arises.


 


For I see that the picture guide,


My mind has been trained to create,


Through parents, school, generations of society,


Is fundamentally flawed.


 


The focus on the piece,


Choosing bright harmonic colours,


Instilled with significant content,


Yet shaped to be compatible,


 


Engenders a striving,


To find perfection in the fragment,


A resistance to viewing the bigger picture,


Where shadows compliment the light.


 


Each branch of the puzzle unending,


The pieces multiply with my attention.


The more I strive, the further and hazier,


The goal seems to be.


 


My attention stays stuck on the outer,


A perpetual desire to change the effect.


What if I change the image?


 Shift my focus to my inner Beloved?


 


Trust that He’s handed me,


 The perfect piece.


And ask for His Love,


 To help me place it.


 


 The one He hands me,


 Is not the easiest to place,


Or the prettiest to look at.


Not what I would have chosen.


 


A dark shadowy fragment.


Sharp edged and oddly angled,


Awkward to handle,


Ugly to the eye.


 


An irksome blast from my past,


 For so long avoided.


A relationship severed,


An attitude entrenched.


 


Through Love’s guiding hand,


These difficult parts of the puzzle,


Transform into the magnificence,


Of realisations hard won.


 


It’s not about the puzzle,


Or the picture it creates,


But seeing that in each conundrum given,


Lies the potential for Grace.


 


For each fragment of karma gifted,


 Becomes sacred when alchemised


By the well of Love within.


Bringing me closer….


 


To mastering the art,


 Of the Master puzzler,


Of becoming the force of Love,


 That guides the way.


 


 To stepping out of the never-ending


Enigma of life,


 And into the ultimate destiny,


Of my own divinity.



			

	


			
				


	

							
Be The Ocean
						

			 / Chloe Kyle						 / 4 Comments
								

			


		

		
I am a stagnant pond


Entrapped by binding reeds.


Boulders bar my flow,


Whilst thick green algae


Blocks the sunlight and suffocates my essence.


Glistening ocean
                                                                                                                                                 istock


My water is murky, my vision impaired.


Stuck in the putrid stench, I flounder.


Drowning in illusory impressions


Of what and how life should be.


 


You gracefully dip your swan wing on my surface.


A beam of clarity ripples through my being.


I sense in the spaces between the muck and mire,


A burning desire to be something other, to be free.


 


You lift me up and show me your vista.


Verdant pastures and tinkling brooks,


Flowing merrily into rumbling rivers


that tumble effortlessly downstream.


 


You fly on and show me the ocean,


A great sea of love, pure and clear.


Glistening, sparkling, its reflection dazzling,


Its divine radiance igniting a spark in me.


 


Tenderly you whisper ‘You are the ocean’


And I feel a surge of power and love glow inside.


Gently you place me back in my pond


But graced by your vision, now I see.


 


That when I turn my face from the reeds they no longer ensnare me.


When I dwell on You, your rays of love burn the algae away.


When I behold the boulders through your gaze


They soften and erode into nothingness.


 


In truth, I am no pond, no river


But a shining spark of the great ocean Divine.


Your wisdom, power and love become me


For I am the radiant ocean of love within.


 


P.S. If you enjoyed reading this post, I’d so love it if you left a comment to share what resonated with you (or didn’t) and/ or any experience of your own inspired by this poem. My intention is that this blog becomes an interactive experience. Thank you!