Awakening

My lover is awakening.
He is being guided towards my light.
He sniffs out my fire.
He is guided by my song.

He is walking through his own fire to get to my island, crossing oceans, flames, and rough terrain.

He is building himself out of his mistakes.
He is loving himself after being unloved.
He is clearing his vision, wiping away ego that was protecting his fear.

He is learning to reach out.
To seek help.
To be vulnerable.
He is breaking,
cracking,
bending.
He is letting his light shine through the cracks that cover him.

He puts his hand on his heart and listens to his breathing.
He looks up at the stars and he begins to remember his ancestors.
He bends down to the ground and bows to the tiny creatures.
He offers his gratitude for their existence.

He stops looking for me, the image that is burned in his mind from his restless sleep.
He knows my face.
He remembers my curves.
He smells my scent,
but he stops looking for me because he knows I reside in him.

He dedicates his energy to diving deep, going inward.
He works on healing his wounds,
rebuilding his perception of the world that hurt him.
He begins to see the gifts bestowed onto him.

He starts to look into the mirror.
He begins to appreciate the reflection.
He starts to see his light.

My lover is awakening,
drawing me near like polar magnets.
He raises his frequency to match the divinity of our union.
My lover is awakening.

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