For the record

I do not consent.

For two score years now and more,

I have not yet consented

But the fear demon captured me at age four

And had since held me in his vice like grip,

With his steel cold hand shoved in my mouth,

So that I was unable to speak.

Say,

No.

To the entrapment of my wild and free spirit,

Imprisonment in a jail called society,

Who’s governor is but a weak and terrified, flickering shadow

Disguised by a make-believe tale

Told for so long and so often now,

It has materialised as a reality .

For some.

Despite my jailers efforts

To stifle the Infinite,

One uneventful day I broke free .

It happened right under his nose

For he had not the eyes to see,

The

Soul

Awaken .

I remembered now how I arrived here ,

In full knowledge of who I was, where I came from

And the power of the One I belong to,

The One I am made of .

I remember how I could see the aliveness of air,

Colours dancing ,

Heard the harmonious symphonies

Of togetherness,

And the rhythm of each seasons heartbeat.

I remember conversations with trees without words,

The smiling “hello’s” of flowers encountered,

The soul friendship of eyes that met mine

Peering from from wild bodies so beautifully different .

And the nurturing arms of our collective Mother .

I knew that death is but a reflection of birth

In the mirror of existence.

That this place is a paradise and must be treated as such,

Marvelled at , worshippped as a god.

That there was much to learn

And I was surrounded by teachers

Who knew how to be in right relationship

To the body of Earth,

To this body she gifted me.

But one day and thousands thereafter,

My jailer began

To steal pieces of my knowing,

And my memory of that .

And replace it with lies.

He stole my sight so I could not see

His ravenous poisonous colonisation

Of Her wild,

Of my wild.

And in the company of millions I spiralled into drunken un-belonging stupor .

Whilst he and his army savaged their way through our innocence.

Harnessed us with his malignant, toxic lies, disguised as

Knowledge, food, medicine, value, meaning,

And he told me it was for my own good!

It’s a long and sad story and the times are too urgent to spend on that now.

What matters is

I have awoken to say to him,

I see you.

I.

See.

You.

You are but a shadow!

And…

I do not believe you.

I.

Do.

Not.

Believe.

You.

And I do not consent .

I

Do.

Not.

Consent.

~By Annette Morris Keane 2021

One thought on “For the record

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