In the Soil of My Becoming

Within my dark inner landscape,
the victim in me quivers in fear.
No safe place to land,
no warmth or love holds me near.
A childhood void gives rise to my inner prey—

A ground fertile and wild
for the predator’s prowl.

Seedlings of the “enabler,”
from the raw soil of fear, she sprouts—
her nature, the perfect nectar
for the “extractor”—the taker—to feed upon.

“Enabler” and “extractor,”
both wounded—both craving sustenance,
both longing for nurture.

The enabler’s need to keep me safe
hinders my growth…
keeping me small.

Like overgrowing weeds,
she traps my voice,
weakens my boundaries,
threatens my inner safety,
erodes my trust in self.

My soil of fear…

Once cultivated to chase external love,

becomes the extractor's dry-sucking feast.

The enabler's vulnerable nectar—

the extractor's selfish taking.

Predators, within—and—without,

veiling my spirit...

draining my soul’s light...

Within this ground of loss and erosion,
quicksand and mud pools,
aimed at keeping me submerged,
keeping me paralysed… depleted!

Yet---.

despite it all--

Resistance begins to take root,
gentle cracks appear through the soil…
slowly awakening my divine guardian—
my—emerging—goddess!

The goddess of my soul—
Oh, how her roots run deep…
anchored in my soil of love.

With a love so fierce,
she emerges from the cracks in damaged earth—
earth of the enabler, the prey, the victim,
earth, once fertile for the extractor’s feed.

She rises, with this earth still on her hands,
their stories, now her strength,
woven into her essence.

The goddess is me!

Standing, unapologetic—
rooted in my wholeness,
my resilience,
my authenticity,

my---

Self-honouring!

Here, now—
in this Soil of My Becoming,

"I--AM"

© 2025-2026 Sandy Clarisse, The Transcendent Poet. All rights reserved. No reproduction without written permission (Privacy Policy)

Written By

Sandy Clarisse