What they didn't tell her about the other side is that upon arrival, the journey isn't over. It's not the end of the road, and it's not somewhere over the rainbow. Every day she climbs a mountain of thoughts. And she has to descend, wading through them again, before the sun goes down so she can ...
I heard you cry out the night she left for the first time, and the last. I heard you cry and the sound was too much for me to bear, so I taught you to rock yourself back to sleep. Every night I taught you this, for centuries.
I see your hurt and hunger. I support your right to stand up and be counted. I champion your individuality and unique glory. For every scar that is stamped onto your being, a remnant makes its way to mine.
How do we speak, not to the defenses and the armor, the puffed chests and bolstered cases, but to the innocent creatures beneath, rattled and confused? How do we step into the battlefield with curiosity, not to fight, but to call one another home? How do we call each other back to our own ...