They are whispering from distant footing
She can't handle the storm

I am mustering my clouds, spinning into their ear canals
And I am murmuring to tiny hairs
Open your eyelids to the sky
The storm is me

I am brushing my clouds against hairs on their skin
And I am poking sleepy flesh
Feel the gathering hum at the horizon
Wild ready rains are moving through

Helen Ilich 2024

Have you ever had others try to cut you down as you grow, blow out your flame, underestimate you, or convince you that 1 + 1 = 3? Perhaps these words will resonate with you.
My response in my own life is to assert myself in the vertical dimension, to hold myself grounded through my hands where I feel all of me fight for my position, to pay attention to me, and to really feel my inner strength and the space that I own. My answer also is to receive support from others who see me, to rally fiercely around me and do what they do with the best of intentions.