Transmutation calls not for a cloak to hide
distress nor an icy barrier to protect.
Not even splendid hermit-like isolation
to guard against all blows verbal, physical or emotional.
But that alchemy of the spirit that burns the
dross off and polishes the mirror of the heart.
Creating that cleansed pure channel
to allow the divine confirmations to flow through.
Cleaning this poor backwater
of all regrets, expectations or disappointment. Focusing all one’s rays of hope
on the spirit of Faith. No defence of the heart but open to love allowing that
magical transmutation into a worthier me.
Fingernails gripping each painful centimetre
upwards. Aware of the ego drop but clenching the rope of security in my fist.
Closeness requires sacrifice and my eyes must be on this journey of discovery
and my heart filled with kindness for all I meet on the way.
Understanding that
like the butterfly, a rotten cocoon must be broken free to enable flight to the
light.
