It is not easy to stand with the open wound, when the whole system has been trained like an army, to flee at first sighting.
She stands, as gaping black hole, with only the unknown at her centre; and the closer you get, the more she opens, yearning for your entry.
Although she requires your complete surrender, and yes, your total entry, it is ok to approach her with the greatest of care.
She unravels depths that call for the greatest of love, and though she is bare like the desert, she offers tightly held secrets to those who dare to enter ….
She throws down ropes made of thorns,
blood and bones and children crying – she is the lost and forgotten – the sin of your rejection.
And have you not heard that You Are Everything?
There is no darkness too dark nor wound too bloody for your embrace.
All must enter for Love to be the case.
So don’t look away, for mirages will play and will taunt you night and day.
Don’t freeze, numb out, and reach for the next enticing
Round and round you go, like the hamster in her wheel, you spin your wheels and veer of track.
Re-wind. She beckons.
She throws down tears and tears to wash away the pain, so catch them. Catch them in your eyes and cry them out like widows wail.
YOU are the Bosom for her Healing. She needs milk from your breast. No-one else but you can soothe those cracks.
Cavernous creaks abound. Jagged edges of confusion, reaching out for your loving touch they cry your name.
I am the lost and forgotten! The open wound in your heart. The buried places in your Soul where ugliness abounds because you have deemed me so.
With your gaze my edges soften and with your touch my screams turn to whimpers.
Release me with your entry.