Goodness

In my metta, I offered myself goodness and light. I offered those who had hurt me goodness and light. I offered those before me and those I have yet to meet goodness and light. I held my goodness in my raw and callused hands. I told the sleeping child within my heart, as the slick rosewood beads slid under my thumb, you are goodness, you are goodness, you are goodness. And I bowed to the solidifying embrace of the earth in gratitude, not for making me better, but for helping me realize: there was never anything I needed to make better in the first place. That I have always been the beauty that I now seek.

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About A B

"There is all this untouched beauty, the light, the dark, both running through me." -Over The Rhine
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