I am a warrior

I am a warrior.

I bear the scars of my ancestors, but I do not cry out their name in vain.

I have heard their stories and I weep as I retell the times of courage, of honour, of hard worn battles.

Not of just skin and bone, but mind, matter and soul.

They run deep within my veins, within my blood and each day I count my blessings for those that have been before me.

Those that risked their lives so that they might help, heal and guide those in the most desperate of need. Who had become lost, afraid of their own shadow, unable to speak the truth or be alone with their own thoughts.

To look upon someone with the love and tenderness that you would give to a child and not lay your hands upon them, but your heart open and willing to hold them, to heal them, to teach them, return them,

To a way of being that allows them to stand tall as a birch, as wide as an oak and be rooted as far down as Mother Earth.

Who cares for each one of her saplings, whether they grow fast or slow, whether they have more or less leaves, whether they lean into the wind or the sun. She cares for them all.

And when there seeds scatter, she will keep a watchful eyes on those who become stuck in the hawthorn, in the stream, on the ledge, in the swamp.

She gently nudges them safely on their way until they are free once more.

We have averted our gaze from that which has been too painful to see.

We have heard the whimpering of the land, the waters, the animals and we have politely moved away, because we do not know,

How we are to fix this, who is to pay, how long will it take. No matter, we start with a soothing word, a hand reached out, which quickly becomes a knowing, an understanding, a story that we were never told, but that we have heard a thousand times.

It quickly became a whisper on the wind, an ancient wind that has been swirling for all this time. With the dust of our ancestors, slowly spreading the word, bringing back the ways, settling once again.

Where you can take a seat, rest your weariness and pick up tools, light fire and once again feel the peace and the safety of a life lived simply, without hate, without fear.

The streams are alive once again, the forest sings and you have remembered its song.

I am a warrior, I do not forget. I bare the scars and I will live again.

This is me https://linktr.ee/LouiseHallam