true reciprocity : soul poem true reciprocity. i spoke of true reciprocity and then she tells me she has been ruminating on this notion and is curious as to what it means to me. true reciprocity, to me, is about the allowance of being. it’s about seeing everything at once yet not trying to discover what it all means before the body mind and soul are ready to receive. in essence there cannot be reciprocity without the true. the true is added simply for effect because there is no reciprocity that is not so true. reciprocity happens without having the mind involved. it’s the breathing in and out and back in again without a thought of what one is doing for the other. yet there is a part of us in those moments of breathing that knows to appreciate the three parts of the whole. in. pause. out. pause. in. pause. out. pause. reciprocity knows nothing of keeping score. it simply just is. there is give and take and no-one or nothing is minding a tally to make sure all is even and fair - because reciprocity is about trusting that all will arrive time and again to a place of equitable harmony. there is a balance of needs getting met and truths being spoken and words being taken as seriously as the souls that occupy this body. with a grain of sand and a pinch of salt - we hold ourselves accountable for the ways our tongues bring magic to the world. true reciprocity is the trees dropping their leaves to nourish the earth. it’s the sap that flows because it knows we humans love to taste the sweet syrup as we fortify ourselves for the times ahead. if in the mind it is ever hard to comprehend - simply look to the natural world that surrounds you - the natural world that abounds within you - and it will be easy to see how you and me flow together like the streams and rivers flow into the ocean and lakes. there is a balance of holding on and letting go - a knowing of hearts beating with some sort of unison with the very centre of the earth. it is death and it is birth. it is all and none wrapped up in one. 
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gently falling -
tiny particles of frozen water - peacefully dropping from the sky - a blanket of silence - a silence to remind me - all can be well - all will change & shift - and in this silence there is peace - for this silence is made in the way that fragments can still be heard - flutterings & droplets - ruffles and muffled weavings of textures & light - this is not the kind of silence made from too many words gone unspoken - this silence is fresh and full of potential - it has magic woven into the very essence of what it means to listen - to be heard. this silence is the space between all the words shared between minds & souls - hearts & eyes. the wise one in me knows - this silence is sacred & holy. |
morgan leigh callisonmostly i write to remind myself what it means to be me. it is through words, my soul finds expression & my mind finds a place for form to take shape. Archives
March 2025
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