A
monthly selection of poetry,
readings and more to heal the spirit and fuel the soul. The author of this selection is unknown.
I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep. I could see that you were mourning, You found it hard to sleep.
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
"I'll cry with you,"
she whispered
"until we run out of tears.
Even if it's forever.
We'll do it together."
There it was . . . a simple
promise of connection.
The loving alliance of
grief and hope that
blesses both our breaking
apart and our coming
together again.
Molly Fumia, Safe Passage
