One day compassion confessed:
“If I had only loved more, given more, been there more, then …
…tragedy would not have happened.
…bodies would not have fallen ill or died.
…friends would not still be suffering.”
I whisper in return: “Your love
may not have solved all my problems,
may not have prevented tragedy,
may not have prevented loss,
may not have prevented death.”
She listens carefully.
”But your love has not failed me.
You have been my steady friend.
You have provided me with comfort.
You have been holding my hand.
You have made me feel safe.
You have made the unbearable more bearable.
Your love and tenderness is all I have ever wanted.
Your love has always been a gift.
Just to be loved by you so deeply,
has made the journey worthwhile.”
I bow to her and honour her
as the Goddess, as the Creator herself.
For only she could love that deeply.
Only the Mother could.
She likes being honoured and
let’s me know how tired she is.
She too wants to rest.
She too wants to curl up.
She too wants to be loved.
I say ‘yes’ to all her longings and
she gently slips downwards.
She shuts her eyes.
She too wants to be included
and held in the circle of support.
A circle of Mountains.
Love feeding Love.
All nourishing All.
Her children have grown up now.
They are magnificent radiant
all powerful Beings.
She happily rests back into what
she had given birth too.
She leans forward into them.
She moves deeply into all forms.
Out of that a new Being is born.
It is called “We”.
It is Us.