You are a geode of joy
that longs to break open
Allow the pressure
of suffering to make you
her diamond
You are a Divine flute
that needs holes carved into it
to sing
Your wounds are the choicest
most fertile spot
for beauty to grow
her roses
Each trauma is a cellar
that slowly ferments
life into the mead
of honeyed compassion
Your broken places
are God’s workshop
where She performs
the great art of Her tenderness
Relax into all of you, darling.
God is in all that you are.
― Chelan Harkin
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