I am tenderly allowing my warm tears
To flow down my face into my ears
The deeper I surrender the bigger the pools that collect there
They are whispering to me saying cry my child cry
I began to cry last night
The waters of my past flowed from within
Birthing themselves as an offering to the Earth
Perhaps they, my tears, were sent by angels
to anoint the hardened casing of my soul,
perhaps
Yesterday I watched as a butterfly patiently
detached its antennae from its chrysalis,
almost there, not quite
I left for a moment and when I my returned
it had fallen into a womb of water,
where these my tears? Perhaps
I am still crying,
I am still surrendering and I am seeing
through the veils behind which I hide
Mostly it’s pain and a deep resistance
to being loved
So I let this go now and I birth myself anew
With my own hand I deliver myself,
with my own tears I anoint myself,
only it’s not me,
but Christ within me
With my hand I lifted the butterfly
from the womb of water,
rays of sunlight dried her wings
she now flies as the child of The Earth
and of The Sun
