To you I write, blade in hand to harm yourself.

You have come here to learn: allow yourself the space
and time to grow: do not fear what you might be.

The spirit of life resides in every breathing form:

each finds a place with the great ecology:

don’t think you do not fit – you do, where you belong.

You were made for a unique task. Don’t blame yourself

for what you aren't; rather, hold the space for what

could be – even if the emptiness becomes unbearable.

It is into that void you must be born: you are the form

which this new life must take. It's awaiting you.

The form your healing takes is the world’s rebirth.

Look, I reach toward you, cut my arm instead.

See the rage, the grief, the isolation well up.

Allow that energy to transform into prayer.

Pray to the space in which the new you is to be born.

You were made for something more than your tiny world: 

allow the shadowed universe to enter you:

broadcast your news from the dark side of the moon.

You don’t know who it’s for – allow yourself to flow
freely into the space, trusting you will be heard.

You are to pioneer new forms of feeling:

you alone have powers to heal a broken world.

The richness of transformation is the space that calls you.

To be sure, big steps are called for. Look despair

in the eye as you say your last good bye.

The road may be long and hard but he's no companion for you.

Instead, find your other friend, your indwelling seed.

Nourish your goodness with all the care you'd give a seedling.

When it grows tall and flowers – that will be your reward.

We are all that is wrong within the world:

we are all that is right within the world:
it's by our choices we declare which side we’ll join.

You can be different – this you must believe. From it
a thousand flowers bloom even in a wasteland.

Have compassion to whom you are. Put down the blade.

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