Holy Grief, breathe me new Life.
I surrender to your Grace. Make me brave, an imperfect lover. Those of us who are willing to feel the greatest depths of loss will be able to feel the greatest tears of joy and ecstasy and grace of the Mother’s breath of Love, in the hands and lips and hearts of a precious “Other,” our mirrors. I sacrifice my grief for Grace, heart stretching upward to your sky in fragile, innocent, newborn faith. Flawed, glorious, divinely sensitive, timid, knowing, beautiful. Not turning away, not this time. I can still feel even if it breaks my heart to see the destruction around me and within me. The loss of innocence. It rises up anew when I return my breath back to You. You heal me. Us. We are the same.
We are held like babies in the arms of the Mother, who only wants for us to return to Love. I am not afraid, this time, to be held in You, but I am indeed timid, like a child. I am scared and brave all at once.
Forgive me for the child in me who is afraid to love or forgive. Forgive me for when I have not been strong enough to trust and closed my heart to those in need, within me and without. Forgive me for turning my back on your loved ones when I am afraid. Forgive me for not being strong enough to love. For clinging, when, I know, we all return Home to you one night eternally in darkness and in light. I bow.
Child of God, wobbly legs, return to the Light. You will be held.
I am worn and broken and weary, and still I feel your Grace and beauty and Joy and unmovable strength moving through me, holding me, as Me, as You as We.
Let the pain in our sacred hearts burn through me with your Flame, and return us back to You. Break me with tears of compassion, for we are You, yet sometimes lost.
We are All. So. Tender.
So precious. So beautiful.