Filling the Jar with Love

Filling the jar with love

Single fragment — heart remains.

Photo by Isi Parente on Unsplash

Overflowing with a heartfelt song — two as one — an ancient telling of the sacred throng. Scaturient morsels of love — cookie jars thief — stealing a bite with every passing by.

Nourishing for a thousand lifetimes — seemingly full — empty withering thought of what it used to be. Voided space — filling the jar — only a broken morsel remains — both halves of the other touched by fear of losing it all.

Teardrops — flooding gates — opening in hopes of watering seeds of what was — leaving both halves out to dry. Two halves splicing jagged breath — kissed by the promises of something greater.

Hung out to dry — hearts torn at the seam — buried together with remnants of one another. Wait and see — never knowing — bursting from mother’s bosom.

~ Ani Po


Inspired by JD Greyson’s dance with inspiration:


Thank you Filza Chaudhry and the Heart Revolution family, for sharing this dance.

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

Honoring Our Elders


Prose| Poetry| Learning from the past


Honoring our Elders

Hearing words of wisdom

Photo by Wren Meinberg on Unsplash

The rain falls, like twisted past flooding thoughts — remembering the heartfelt and bleeding storylines of yesteryear. Numb — melancholic remembrance of scar tissues evaporating songs.

All things — all dreams — all realities colliding and intertwining — past to present, and future outlook obsessing of what may or may not be true. Invitation sent — all players that make up the whole — sitting beside each other, fighting over right and wrong. 

Wisdom of the elders — called forward — age-old historical record teaching deeper connections to mother’s calling winds. Intently hearing the voices of the past — recalling a better way of living — buried by the casting shadows of golden rays warming light.

~ Ani Po


In his book, The Myth of Normal, Gabor Mate and His son writes about how childhood traumas can cause roadblocks or disease later in life. Unattended to, our cells fester, waiting to explode — pleading to be heard.

Crying out for greater understanding, we ignore, mask, or honor them — releasing everything leading up to this point.

Not in the literal sense but in allegory, our traumas and addictions of the past teach us valuable wisdom within this canvas of life.

As a child, indirectly taught how not to be, afflictions becoming our elders and traumas themselves molding into the present version of self just as the physical — living elders are sharing their wisdom, traumas of the past carrying similar songs not yet understood. In gratitude, submersing ourselves in the past subservient ways, no longer — lingering holds of what’s been told.

What if we treat our traumas, addictions and afflictions as elders to a greater understanding of self and how the world has formed to be? Honoring our Elders, like those sitting by the fire — sharing wisdom for all to take home to their neighboring village.


Thank you Diana C., Ravyne Hawke, Spyder, and the whole Know Thyself Heal Thyself family for sharing this sacred space.

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash