Quantum Shift

By | Poems

hearts connected

By MindiMeira
July 2015

Hearts connected
Through it all
No matter the challenge
Whatever the stall

Confused but determined
Undermined by the past
Resentment always hovered
Finally, gone at last.

Together, but
no parts collide
No key to ignite the ride.

A week of clear communication,
Then adored, a bouquet of love
Really long talk about the past
All gifts from above.

Gone the defenses
Free of disbelief
Energetically changed forever
Palpable, the relief.
Calm and relaxed

Settled, it’s nice.
Frantic chase done forever
no more just a roll of the dice.

I’m home.  Free
Here. I’m good.
My Guide, thank you for bringing me
To my Self, knew you would.

Out of the Tunnel

By | Poems

Out of the Tunnel

by MindiMeira

Something happened recently
I prayed for it for so long but
honestly I thought I was fucked and
would never see the light of day.
What happened was
I got out of the tunnel-
the tunnel of despair.
Throughout much of my life
I have found myself in
this dark tunnel.
Dark, with no light
and no real sense of which direction  to go.
Lonely, cold and scared
I mostly huddled in a ball,
miserable, panicked and crying.
Once in a while I would get up and stagger, walk or run.
Once in a while, I’d bump into others or they into me,
in that dark tunnel, and
I’d be even more scared, or
sometimes comforted that i was not alone.
A couple of years ago
I noticed a dim light, and since then
always headed towards it.
More recently, I noticed that light got brighter
and that there were lots of others in the tunnel,
And each person, each animal,
had its own light, some dim, some bright.
The tunnel got much easier to navigate
with companionship and light.
But it was still a tunnel
And living there was hard.

Last Thanksgiving, I got out of the tunnel.
It was brief, but it happened.
And I celebrated.
Then it happened again and again.
The tunnel of isolation, hopelessness and despair
is no longer my emotional home.
I no longer cry every single day in a curled up ball
I no longer blame myself and feel ashamed of my life.
The tunnel was my home.
I didn’t like it but it was what it was.

I’m out now, for however long.
Whether the sun is shining or it its raining rivers.
In the howling wind and the ice of winter,
I am making my new home on bridges.
Bridges of connection, bridges of support.
Bridges in the light of day.
Bridges in the street lights of night.
Bridges used to scare me.
As my step-brother jumped from one to his death.
But bridges offer so much choice.
So many beautiful options.
They can help us cross over obstacles.
I hope I can stay out of the tunnel
And enjoy my adventure on the bridge.

And if you are in the tunnel,
I invite you to join me.
If you feel I have left you behind,
I’m so sorry.
Please join me.
I’ll be waiting for you,
wind in my hair,
sun on my face,
ready to face life,
on the bridge.


Mother Bird

By | Poems

mother bird for poem






by MindiMeira
May 11, 2014

Mother Bird, Mother Bird
I see you on the tree.

Mother Bird, Mother Bird.
Are you listening to Me?

As I share of Gratitude
And the Gifts of my Kids
Of surviving and overcoming
How I cried and I bled.
Without a Mother Mentor
I forged my own way
Against unspoken rules
And around secretive power plays.
My sophisticated psyche
Found a tree, built a nest,
My body laid its eggs.
And is still sorting out the rest.
Did you hear, Mother Bird?
Dear Reader,
I am  Fifty Years Old.
My Mother is Dead.
I am Mothering myself this year.
I nurture, soothe, embrace, forgive, accept, hug, stroke, and love myself. I shush my choking sobs and wipe my own tears .I remind myself that I am a Human Being and Doing the best I can. I lovingly chop vegetables, make soup and I carefully feed my sick, wounded, grieving child within.
I am mothering myself.
I am healing!
I am celebrating a precious new relationship.
I am going to be present this  Mother’s Day.
This Mother’s Day,
I am the Mother
I am  the Child.
Be Gentle with YOU,

Little Girl

By | Poems

just love me






Little Girl
by MindiMeira
May 25, 2014

I am
a little girl.

I cry
and cry
and cry.

Emotional ;
one big swirl,
Kiss rational me

I keep it
All together;
Navigate tendrils
Feeling sense.

The exertion is
Too much for me,
My body is
so tense.

Want Love,
Not Sex.
Just Love,
My Dear.

and Held,
No words,
Hot tears.

Want warmth
and hugs
and acceptance
so rare.

Scared to ask.

Scared to get.

Scared Love won’t
Feel like Love;
Sex is the only safe bet.

I am
a little girl.

I cry
and cry
and cry.

If I Dare

By | Poems



by MindiMeira
June 14, 2014



Small and high
Barely there
Uncle’s hand
Demanded his share.

Delicious sensation
Shot down, down there,
Nipples caressed
Made my life unfair.

Firm and round
Breasts were power
Used to attract
Got me used and deflowered.

And if ever approached from behind
I was reminded of that younger time
Any pleasure quickly became shame
Out of the body, I would climb.

Then heavy and large, for nine blessed years,
To six, these breasts fed life.
I lived to serve and I became
The Best Mother, The Best Wife.


Breasts used, and breasts given,
To men , as if they were toys.
Such confusion with uncle and husband,
Sustenance to the boys.

Now at fifty, breasts sag.
 They’re flat.
Discipline, nutrition and exercise

find me strong and youthful,
But when it comes to breasts,
That  is that.

Victoria Secret bras enhance my look
So grateful for the lift,
And now I wonder and I dream
Can I give myself a gift?

A lift, implants, too expensive,
It’s surgery, requires care.
But all the inconvenience

If I dare!

They may no longer be natural
Some will judge, I won’t care.
Cause it’s my life and I get to choose
everything about my breasts,
If I dare……….


By | Poems


blooming flowers

Jan 30, 2017
by Mindi Meira

Happy to be
Happy to see
Her face.
Happiness like
fragrant flowers
All over
The place.

Joy that’s
So divine,
Put everything
Else in space.
Only emotions
Clear and high
Are worth the
Crazy race.

psycho bitch
deserves Mace.

She’s an Ace!
It’s hard~
Never to see
Asshole’s face.

Minutes turn to hours
Hours stretch to days
Better now
Enconsed in a
Home Base.

Praying for no flashbacks
No triggers
Easy pace

Wondering if one day
Could be Her Song?

That would be Grace.