Like diamonds from the ashes they appear. Take form.
Revealing themselves to you.
Like waking up in the middle of the Night. Called. To go out and stand bathed in starlight. Breathing in stardust. Picking your wound out of the collective pot.
Discovering how tiny it was. Surprised, that something so small could make such a loud noise.
She was still weeping. Crying for the return.
I told her, don’t worry, he will come back for you. He never left. You have plenty of time to know he loves you. To spend time talking, travelling, visiting, doing stuff together, writing letters, hearing his voice on the phone, telling you, advising you, comforting you, taking care of you. Arguing. Disagreeing. Life. You will never stop being his daughter. Even now from across the veil, he is here. Holding you. Safe.
So, don’t weep anymore. Don’t ache.
You are here to know great love.
So call the wound now out of the collective pot and see it is healed. It is not happening now.
And see now, acknowledged, how that gem begins to shine.
Becoming a treasure for you to cherish.
Called out at night to be held. Starbathed. In the cosmic womb.
You are loved.