O how you despair! No, no, the world is not going to $%!@. I promise! It’s going through a fire? Yes. And like extracting gold from ore, as though a smelting toward precious metal, revealed!
Starting on the inside of you and me.
Brother, cling to the gold! That gleam of Good that grabbed your eye by the crook of your elbow as you passed and reminded you, ‘Hey! I still exist!’ Cling! Today, in the tone of your absent father’s ‘Happy Birthday’, in your hardened mother’s moment of generosity, in your lover’s propensity to forgive you, again, in the noble, simple hopes you’ll no longer confess to, yet secretly hold onto.
There is gold here.
And that gold will carry you through reckoning to the Other Side, alive! Living and free from the soot of your nightmares and regrets, to but gold and pure joy, Goodness!
Heaven, my dear, is both now and not yet.
Come let us be gold miners in the tunnels of the valley of shadow of death and disillusion. Let us thirst for Light to lead our way through the darkest times.
Together, may our quest be fruitful and Love, rich.
Copyright © 2019 A.M. Wilsonne