Tuesday, May 17, 2011

the forgiven

You are forgiven, beautiful little girl, for all of the things that hurt you and scared you. 
You are forgiven, young and blossoming lady, for holding yourself back in fear and for numbing your pain. 
You are forgiven, struggling mother, for missing the mark of perfection you had been blindly leaping at. 
You are forgiven for the wounds you never realized you were making on yourself. 
You are forgiven, tired slave, for never being able to please your unjust taskmaster. 
You are forgiven for the boiling rage that you held inside. 

The Universe is large enough, broad enough, soft and loving enough, the Goddess spreads her arms wide to pull you close, to caress your brow and whisper like the Great Mother She is - "My Child, My Right Hand, My Love, My Creation, rest now and soon you will see the beauty radiating from within."

And God is there, too, Proud and Beaming in the softened way of a warrior who knows no battles last forever, in the lump-in-the-throat way of the heroes of myths and legends, he sees that your victories have been noble, and that your scars have shaped and honed your skills and that as the scars fade you will no longer need to fight those battles again. He is proud and loving... 

I see you up close, and see the Goddess within you, the fern-covered forest floor of your wondrous and growing Soul, the handiwork of faeries and angels that have loved you for forever.


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