The Beloved

oak leavesBalanced on the cliff edge, my acorn shell cracked wide open I look out into the void. My old brain screams in terror, seeing only my annihilation. There is a whispering, the gentle susurration of oak leaves shimmying, calling me forward. I am exhausted by the terror and so I drop into the velvety darkness. The banshee wail fades behind me and I am gently caught in the loving embrace of a compassionate God, manifested through the actions of my beloved husband, caring family, friends and my garden. A tiny shoot has sprouted in my soul garden. Each time I drop I am buoyed up, carried on swells of constancy, love and acceptance. Ebbing and flowing, my emotions toss the boat of my soul. Little by little I learn to find my balance, my sea-legs, more quickly. In this moment I am not that abandoned child sucked down into a whirlpool of despair, drowning in her own shame. A new land is in sight and the waves push me ever closer. It is the unknown; I am a way off yet. I feel its pull, it is the moon, I am the water. Like the new growth sprouting skyward in my soul garden my roots are seeking their home. I am still vulnerable; though pulsing within me is all the potential of a mighty oak and all around me the compassionate manifestation of the Beloved.


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