I look into the eyes of an ancient one.
Her gaze is fierce, bright, resolute.
I am grieving.
I can not go on. Not like this.
She has been through it all.
Dry seasons, abundant harvests.
Betrayal, despair, hope, joy.
Horror beyond comprehension.
Beauty beyond words.
And still she walks and sings,
Attends to mundane tasks,
Savors simple pleasures.
In her piercing ancient eyes,
I drink deep of strength, courage, compassion.
I am held until I am ready to go on.
Body of Relating Retreat, Chapel Hill, NC