IN PASSING by Lisel Mueller How swiftly the strained honey of afternoon light flows into darkness and the closed bud shrugs off its special mystery in order to break into blossom: as if what exists, exists so that it can be lost and become precious.
This is me. Since my dad threw me into the sea. When he told me why he'd never have come to protect me from my step father's abuse. I never had a harder fall. I have been bouncing along the depths, rattling bones and grasping ... or running and hiding and hoping for the tenderness that might bring me back to life. Have you read Clarissa Pinkola Estes' chapter on Skeleton woman? She is persephone. She is love's underbelly and necessity. This is totally a part of my story... And still my own bones scare the living crap out of me. Rattling and running, seeking safe harbor in my heart.