these are not my words…

As I put things together, I am reminded of love, of gifts. I am reminded that I once knew how to write. I am reminded of this, given to me from Tantra, the end of November, 2005…:

There is a brokenness out of which comes the unbroken,
A shatteredness out of which blooms the unshatterable.
There is sorrow beyond all grief which leads to joy,
And a fragility out of whose depths emerges strength.
There is a hollow space too vast for words
Through which we pass with each loss.
Out of whose darkness we are sanctioned into being.
There is a cry deeper than all sound
Whose serrated edges cut the heart as we break open
To the place inside which is unbreakable and whole,
While learning to sing.

-Rashani-

We learn to sing.

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