The geese are gone now.
It’s colder here on this bench than it ever has been.
I know if I don’t leave soon, I will face my fear in dark woods.
There will be no moonlight tonight.
I have already been to the depths of my own horrors–
it is why I can stand witness to another with compassion, empathy
tenderness; a balm.
Only recently did I discover how to treat my own wounds with that kind of care.
They rise to the surface whenever fear edges out truth.
Rape, violence, silence. Depression. Anxiety, suicide, loss and loss and loss…
Yet I remain astounded by the resiliency of love.
A gentle touch, a deep breath.
The kiss of truth–longing to see and to be seen and loved anyway.
Rejoicing in poignant and precious present.
The river before me, frozen now and covered with snow.
For a moment, I consider that it would only be a split second in eternity–
panic before cold wins. Succumbing to the ice.
The current would allow nothing but surrender.
This frozen river, with its still, snowy facade, reads my mind.
Ice cracks with audible force…if only to remind me that underneath,
the tide still flows.
Yet I remain, astounded by the resiliency of love.
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