I lost a child today, I am not sure where they went.

I see their swaddle and blanket, so I follow its flow, but still I cannot see them.

I hear a faint sound of laughter that completes me, so I keep going.

I see a shoe, laces untied, but where is the other? Could it be with them?

Further I go, and I can sense I am near, but now there is another voice, undistinguishable, but yet I know it too well.

I gave my child to them to take care of, but are they caring, or just pretending I will never be there.

The tick tock of the clock, the click clack of the keys; weight loss, make up, sexuality, and cars. The manifestation of a generation that relies on materialism, the 3D instead of a 5D calling.

I see them, they smile, but when they see me, I feel the spirit shifted. Am I wanted anymore or has what I provided because they desired, tearing me from them in the names of independence and growing up?

My heart goes as I feel the disconnect from that oh too familiar voice, more audible at this point, unfortunately, it has called open the box of my past.

No value, unwanted, no true long lasting friends, and not liked; after thinking I had moved on, here I sit staring ahead as I am held behind the wall of discomfort, which is double sided as my child’s wall of hope.

Where has my child gone? Where can I find the hammer? Shattering the glass to hold them again, so that I know where they are as they grow within the 3D world of materialism, but remain connected to the swaddle and blanket of their essence.