"I hope you will go out and let stories happen to you, and that you will work them, water them with your blood and tears and your laughter till they bloom, till you yourself burst into bloom. " ~Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Saturday, January 5, 2013

small stone: day five

Will you sing me the song of me
when my heart weighs heavy like stone?
Will you sing me the song of me
when my voice is caught up in webs?
Will you sing me the song of me?

And the voice whispers: Inhale. Exhale.
Your song is always there, floating around you,
as the sweet caress of a gentle breeze,
the wild embrace of a strong gale.
Listen.
Listen.
Sing.

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