Remembrance

When you reach

a quiet place

and there is

sadness,

when the world

seems a little

too intense

again,

close your eyes

and remember

the softness

of your soul.

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Hope

At a certain point,

the only real option

was going to

the source —

risking it all

to find something

worth holding.

It meant looking

within

and finding

that one thing

I could say

was sacred,

that one thing

worth holding

if everything else

I thought I had

understood

turned out to be

untrue.

I had to know

if there was

hope for any of us.

I had to know if

there was something

to be found

in us

that was capable

of holding

anything pure

without messing it up.

And it turned out

there was.

Naturally

There was something

quietly satisfying

in showing up

without a mask,

without the constant

narrating mind.

Perceiving became

observing

and honoring

from a little higher

place.

Actions happened

naturally.

But it was the

space,

both expanding

outward

and anchoring me

in that moment,

that pulled me

ever so gently

toward my next needed

step.

Only This Place

It was a delicate thing

to hold

all the pieces

of my own shattered

heart —

setting down everyting

I had gathered

again and again —

listening deeply

without knowing

exactly how –

pulling my very

sense of self

back —

waiting for words

to form

only from this place —

speaking only

to this place —

where there was

peace

and the courage

to continue on.