CRY OUT IN YOUR WEAKNESS
A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth
A courageous man went and rescued the bear.
There are such helpers in the world, who rush to save
anyone who cries out. Like mercy itself,
they run toward the screaming.
And they can’t be bought off.
If you were to ask one of those, “Why did you come
so quickly?” he or she would say, “Because I heard your helplessness.”
Where lowland is,
that’s where water goes.
All medicine wants is pain to cure.
And don’t just ask for one mercy.
Let them flood in. Let the sky open under your feet.
Take the cotton out of your ears, the cotton
of consolations, so you can hear the sphere-music.
Push the hair out of your eyes.
Blow the phlegm from your nose,
and from your brain.
Let the wind breeze through.
Leave no residue in yourself from that bilious fever.
Take the cure for impotence,
that your manhood may shoot forth,
and a hundred new beings come of your coming.
Tear the binding from around the foot
of your soul, and let it race around the track
in front of the crowd.
Loosen the knot of greed
so tight on your neck.
Accept your new good luck.
Give your weakness
to one who helps.
Crying out loud and weeping are great resources.
A nursing mother, all she does
is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper,
and she’s there.
God created the child, that is, your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.
Cry out! Don’t be stolid and silent
with your pain. Lament! And let the milk
of loving flow into you.
The hard rain and wind
are ways the cloud has
to take care of us.
Respond to every call
that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful
and sad, that degrade you
back toward disease and death.
I read this because my teacher, David, posted it on our Deep Massage Society page,
This opened the door for my own words to flow.
She didn’t feel the need
To say much of anything
To anyone at all
She didn’t cry out
But instead she stood
With her hands wide open
Just like her heart
She breathed in and exhaled
Let every thought go wherever it would be received
Maybe someone needed the words she had written
Maybe someone would read between the lines
Maybe she would be able to give what another cried out for
She believed anyway
What she knew for absolute certainty
Was that The Creator knew her soul well, so well
Knew what she needed
What she wanted, too
Knew the treasures she was seeking
And how they would be found
As long as she continued
To stand with her hands open wide
Ready to receive
Whatever her heart believed
She had no need to cry out loud
Because the Universe could hear
The whispers of her soul
The itch of her fingers
To fill the voids
The way she stood
Beckoning with her hands
For things to fill in
Capture her imagination and fill up her heart
It was so simple
When she responded to every call that excited her spirit
By simply standing there
With the door to her heart wide open
And her hands ready to receive and to give
Just as freely
As her soul cried out for.
👣♥️ Jeanna’ Mead
4.15.20. 10 07a.m
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