I was put on this earth,
to put you on this earth.
I was put here to pry open the ribs of ancient love and let out the light of Beauty aching for acknowledgement, too long bent to its own brilliance by those fearing its Truth.
I was put here
to pull myself apart to do that.
To break wide open and let you out.
Nothing more in this life is necessary; nothing more important; nothing more vital; nothing next, nothing to come–it is this. This is the heart of it. This is the art of it. Living and loving my children more than myself.
This mother-love shows no mercy on the ego.
Mother-love sleighs all of the dragons…the delusions of what “I” could be, should be, would be.
And I do not make a natural martyr. My marriage to entitlement was a fantasy of grand things, big language, big letters, big books. I ignored what I knew–I believed what I wanted was real. I laid everything down and stood there. Down to the bones. I stood there. Stood there. I stayed there. Stayed here.
Now? I simply put down my self to lift yours up.
I was put on this earth to put you on this earth.