How can I stand by and watch you be so harsh to yourself? How can I not speak when with a heavy hand and a sharp voice you deal with your own heart. How can I not hear the cry of your soul as the wounds of long ago arise with a face so like your own?
I cannot.
I cannot because I know that harshness, that voice, those hands. I know that face and that cry. And I know how to witness these familiar energies, and hear that voice beneath it all.
I can listen you.
I can take it in and breath it out, and give you a moment of clarity. And there, in that breath, may you find the lotus becoming open, the clearing in your own heart.
