6.) To my broken winged birdie

It's not his wing that makes a bird to be wizard, but his bravery, that he dares to fly.

***

Oh, Women!

God's blessed ports, sacred paths between two worlds, light-tunnels where newborn souls arrive to Earthly life.

Oh, Mothers!

God's Earthly maid-servants, wingless angels who undertake unimaginable bodily pain giving birth to a tiny, wonderfully touching newborn body.

Who unlock their hearts with unquestioned trust whilst opening the saint passage and let souls to occupy their Earthly guise.

Mothers, who unify spiritual and material existence. Feed, guard, support, protect, serve their little children with almighty love.

Yes, women are God's mystical creations predestined to their magical ethereal purpose - to motherhood!

Be sure, dear, the evil knows women's importance well. It knows that vulnerable, young human beings can be attacked across their mothers most easily.

The evil has its efficient weaponry to turn a maternal heart into stone, to change motherhood's blessings into wicked curses.

Women's all suffered hurts become open doors to demonic influence... to infiltrate and poison their hearts, to plant seeds of selfishness, hatred, jealousy, lust of power, pride, vindictiveness, self-loathing... the sorrowful list is endless... but one fact is sure - these poisoned hearts become activated sooner or later, and a destroying game takes beginning.

You arrive here with naively open heart, filled with trust... and, though reasons are incomprehensible, you feel that something is wrong with you. Your mother's persistent, constant discontent suggests that you are not good enough, your God given abilities are too few, you are guilty... a useless burden upon your mother's shoulders whilst someone else already occupied the place in her heart.

You suffer day to day comparison in vain - there is no possibility to win the race, moreover, your mother already decided not to give you chance to prove, never!... yes, it would be better if you even would have not been born.

Remorse, self-accusation, worthlessness darkens the life... and your sins become so clear... yes, you dared to be girl/boy, though you should have known the family expectations!

Your mother already has two sons - she doesn't want a third boy!... your mother already has daughters - how did you dare to arrive in female body?!

You should have become tall/short with black/brown/white/pink skin, blond/brown/black/ginger haired with blue/brown/grey eyes... oh my dear, must I continue the enumeration?

Maybe you know the joke about a little bunny and the huge bear - yes, our timid bunny fellow gets punishment if there is hat on his head, and if there is not!

Causes are not important - only the punishment... yes, the upshot has to be rigorous punishment!... and the innocent, little bunny's vulnerable heart gets rived at the end.

Your overwhelming pain whispers wrong advices... you surrender, hug the familiar wickedness, let to come into your heart... yes, you kill your own soul by your own hands and turn into a stranger person who you never was, for sake of the maternal demon - called "prejudicial expectations".

Watch, dear, as your cheated, ignored, neglected little-child-self would do anything to meet the maternal requirements to get just a little recognition, praise, love... this wounded part of your soul never can grow up... you are milling around in time beside your mom's apron secretly hoping that one day she will esteem your huge sacrifice.

As time goes by your rejected, broken personality's pain becomes stronger and stronger... a self-deceiving substitute-action seems to be the best solution.

You imagine a beautiful lie which re-paints the truth!

A wonderful tale, where your mother loves you, where you are her single consolation, the only medicine of her wicked heart... maybe... she is vicious towards others, but towards you never!

In your miraculous fable your mother turns into angelic in your presence... you are her saviour, redeemer, rescuer.

Your magical tale caresses your soul, helps to bear the unbearable truth... and slowly you begin to believe in your own lie!... and your lie begins to defend itself!

Like an endless rat race - you reiterate the grandiose lie whilst chasing your mother's imagined and never received love... through your whole life.

Just watch the helpless adults who are not able to become unattached... like unsatisfied little children run after the missing maternal love.

Grey haired grandfathers and grandmothers dote upon their matron-aged mom hoping to soften her heart... "Its never too late until she is alive!" - cries their rejected Inner Child.

They would do anything, bear adulthood humiliations, feed hate against their siblings, kill their own emotions, deny true love, destroy their own life, burn up all the bridges behind - chasing the only one, single desired purpose - to squeeze love from that demonized, long ago lost soul, who wears, but doesn't deserve the honorific title - "Mother".

A futile attempt.

That certain living body, from whom you beg for maternal love - already doesn't contain the soul. Your mother's heart with motherhood's treasures were stole, long ago, by the evil's hands.

In your clear moments truth becomes desperately understandable... but your miraculous lie is fed by the maternal wickedness and defends itself hard! Even a simple Biblical story also might be tool for its violent intention. And you obey ... become your own worse enemy, push away the truth and every person, who becomes dangerous to your self-deceiving fable.

And the hellish circle gets locked up...

Your inherited demon is satisfied.

My sad dear, your dead heart became cemetery where you digged a deep grave and buried your life under a long lifetime's self-deceiving lies... but, despite your desperate attempt - the Truth is alive!

Maybe, you have not too long Earthly time... you'll take Home a wasted, ruined, dead soul at the end... maybe, you become brave to face your own life's God given Truth and heal your precious soul ... only you can decide... and time is running...

07.2016