My Life of the 2nd Chakra

Conceived outside the sanction of marriage, I grew to play hidden childhood games where I said “Uncle” and surrendered to his sexual domination. At college I replayed that scenario with the professor, who lied so he could stain his sheets with the remainder of my innocence. After that I replayed again & again, as I mistook my womb for my heart, my orgasm for love, and my yoni for my self worth.

Finally, I married for convenience. I conceived, carried and gave birth to my son. When I looked into his eyes, I knew love. When I birthed him in the middle of friends, in the middle of my bedroom, I knew that the power of the womb, and my own power, went beyond thrills and sparks. It was the power to create and nurture someone of substance.

From there I midwifed babies and mothers, serving the 2nd chakra by proving this power again & again to myself and the world. I was baptized again & again with amniotic fluid and birth blood, until I was full of birth. Then I could stop and sleep again.

Continuing my service to the 2nd chakra, I massaged and prayed women’s wombs and ovaries back to life and back into place, in their bodies and in the world. There. That feels complete.

What can I do for the 2nd Chakra now that this body no longer eggs & bleeds and my penance is done? I give birth through the mysterious womb of words. I affirm women's creativity beyond the body.

-By Terra Rafael

Poem - Inner Child's Lament

What is wrong with me?
What can it be?
The fly in my ointment?
The tempest in my tea?
The cock in my mouth
when I was just seven?
Could such a child
ever go up to Heaven?
I bottled that up
Made believe it was gone
For many many years
Forgotten so long
I didn’t remember
Until last December
Yet still I dismembered
and chopped myself up
into pieces that wouldn’t
let the big secret out.
Now I’ve blown my cork-
I’ve flipped my lid
I’m starting to know all that I did,
All the nasty things he did to that kid-
Was it really me? Maybe I dream,
This nightmare haunts me
The guilt ever taunts me
But no
It is true
It was me in that stew-
The little girl worried that she would
go crazy
so worried, she simply made it go hazy-
The choke in the throat
I can’t swallow that pill.
Being good, being naughty-
Neither one fulfills.
Why don’t I like playing games anymore?
Cause the game as a child was that I was a whore.
And sex, yes I love it
Will you love me true
if I let you shove it
inside of me too?
And now I am big
Why do I still feel too small?
My anger could raise me 100 feet tall.
My guilt has already put me way past hell,
Punished me for sins even I cannot tell.
My sorrow can fill all the Seven Blue Seas.
My fear is enough to shake everyone’s knees.
Someday I’ll grow up & will love that small girl
We will dance together, we’ll twirl & we’ll whirl
We’ll feel safe and sound
We’ll sleep oh so tight
And the bed bugs will never again ever bite.
by Terra Rafael