I’m tired of my karma armor
what I wear to protect against what’s darker.
Taproot into the deep, dark divide
where suffers the many at the hands of the few.
It’s ancestral fuel.
I use this as a mirror.
Suddenly, your intentions become clearer.
My karma armor
the great equalizer
reflecting back that which you have conspired.
Disassemble
reconfigure
the story that you tell
to reveal the incongruence
the lie you tell yourself.
I liked your comment this morning in Substack Office Hours, but the chat closed before I commented. So I found and liked your poem...I misread the title and loved the idea of your karma lover (like 'mi amor'), then appreciated that you meant the protection. Anyway, I have been so confused with Substack's no-dashboard on my ipad...finally understand now. Thanks.