Growing up was rarely a struggle for her.
She knew how to speak with grace
When situations required it.
She was kind and understanding.
Wisdom, even prophetic visions, were
ever on her lips. Even so young.
The parts of growing up that troubled
her the most were related to
There was little time for these things.
More important tasks were at hand:
- The pursuit of joy
- Saving the word
- Loving: things, creatures, people
- Calling down nature and the gods from their heavenly homes to come and comfort the sick and downtrodden
- Just staying alive
The weight of these tasks was immense
on her shoulders, smoldered in her mind.
If she didn’t do these things, who would?
So, rather than becoming a grown-up,
she became love, entirely, or as much
of her as could be converted to pure love.
She gave herself wholly to the cause. Others joined in.
Soon the host became so many light balloons
bright colors. Mirth was there. Peace, too.
They became a great cloud of love that
went into all the corners of the earth.
She was there at the core of it.
Pulsing with light.
The center of love.
Each individual sighing
in unison with all the others.
She was their mother. The origin, the hope
of an eternity where all beings rest in
the soft waves, the gentle breeze,
the brush of ferns underfoot.
Holiness and light.
The joy of the morning.
The hush of night.
The wide, bright sunshine
of a reborn day.