Fruit lies in piles around trees,
a slush of waning nectar,
can you love that which has
moved past ripeness?
That which heaps itself
in sticky-scented rot?
Can you love the mottled skin,
petals tumbling to ground,
sharp wind shaking loose
the clutch of leaves?
Can you love what could have been,
Can the current of regret
carry you to old shores?
Will you look in the mirror
at your scars and lines
and see a ragged map?
Will you linger a while,
re-reading the final page?
~Christine Valters Paintner
somehow I made the finest connection to myself….
inquiry for today~ when do you come home to you?
By having the courage to stand for one’s own experience,
one begins to give real being to the soul.
Everything depends on the individual’s ability
to stand for their own experience
(symptoms, suffering and accomplishments)
in the face of the world
that gives these things no credit.