By Anonymous
Like a gnarled tree trunk rising out of the depths
drawing strength from the deep and patient earth
so too we will rise
yes, we will rise
and it will be sooner than any of us expect
when we had given up all hope
when we had become all too aware of the pain
of hope lost
and dared not to hope any more
There, like turning a corner and seeing a flower that managed to
break through concrete
or a friendly puppy wagging his tail
we will say,
“Is that it?
It seems so easy
why didn’t we see that before?”
and there it will be:
THE CURE
and we shall be cured.
But what interests me more is this:
Who will we be when we reach there?
What have we learned?
We are a blessed group of souls, cells in one large body,
experiencing the same agony in unison,
one of the hardest schools ever to have been.
An agony that, if we cannot convey it as we experience it,
how will we tell the tale once the memory grows dim?
Or why?
Our spiritual muscles have been flexed in the deepest way
and we have become olympic gold winners in the school
of pain
And this no coincidence
nor mischief of a malevolent God
To what purpose are we being forged in this way?
Who will we be on the other side of this?
What gifts will we collectively bring to the world
when we emerge, naked, moist and newborn?
