Gently
gently
she unfolds…
Slowly
slowly
she becomes…
Softly
softly
she blossoms…
Unfolding into
the fullness
of mySelf…
. . .
Peeling away the layers, trying to reach the center of Me
like an onion, they say, or the artichoke,
pulling off the pointy tough outer leaves, one by one,
until:
oh, look
the tender
delicate
inner layers,
tell me I am
getting closer
to the heart.
But also, what if, rather than working from the outside in,
I am working from the inside out,
like a seed, a flower, a blossom,
ever-opening, the petals unfurling,
in lush expression
from the center,
infinitely radiating outward.
Sometimes opening with gratitude, ease, bliss
Sometimes afraid to continue opening—so painful, raw, & tender
and yet it continues, Source moving through me,
blossoming forth, some petals wilting, falling away,
others freshly unfolding,
the fragrance unknowable,
and still I try to inhale Her scent
as She shines out through me.
I grow
I blossom
I fall away.
Unfolding into fullness of mySelf.
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