Dragonfly in Amber

there’s a lot of advice about remaining present, here
dropping expectations for how things will play out, there
and believing that everything happened before
was in your favor
but, also
holding boundaries for what you’ll accept, now
and how you’ll be treated, next time
knowing you can’t control what others do, but
you can respond

something happens
out flows
a storied interpretation
thought, translated
and charged with belief
lightning cracks
and puts words in to action
rolling waves on new breeze

sometimes I feel frozen
and ask my body where
scanning back-line energy
down-column, there…
an injustice
wedged, deep center
in the solar plexus
calcified, dragonfly in amber
wings preserved in mid-air

what was
the victim thrashing about
way back then?
all shoulder-struggle
drinking in sweet nectar
submerged in the unfair
stuck, on the receiving end
and still there

I guess
we’ll never know
resisting the urge
to chip away, in ruin
regret for something I did or didn’t do
holding two paths at once
if-and-only
wanting both to be true

a need to feel seen
safe, even
gesturing (why?) at mirrors
flicking coins, back-turned
neck-tilted down, looking past my reflection
for signs, symbols, and confirmation
tumbler-turn vibrations
felt on my palm, behind the glass

another nebulous cause-and-effect reaction
zero-to-one
leaping one-to-two, digital
counting up in closed circuit
feedback loops ground down in the physical
collision-space
where collective minds reach out and out
wheel-spinning their own thrown clay

This poem was in the works for a few days, as I considered my relationship to social media, and the injustice wounds that drive some of my urges to collide with others (the victim, a fly in amber). Why do I feel the need to join the conversation? To share my story? To critique and let others know the impact they have on all of us? Memories of when my boundaries weren’t so strong, before.

What does it feel like to seek validation from strangers? Are the symbols we receive in response to putting ourselves out there enough to feel seen?

Somatic exercise helps (yoga, stretching), as well as shadow work, and meditation. I feel like I get closer to releasing and letting it all go, and writing this poem helps.

Do you have something stuck in amber, too?