"Who comforts the comforter?", I wrote the other day. And as in times past, words I wrote echo in my mind, singing out that they are still there, still needing to be heard. So today, again, I ask.
Who comforts the comforter? Who helps the helper? Who heals the healer?
This goes out to my Heart Sisters, my very own Wild Women, fierce and innocent, free and burdened, held down and rising up - fighting hate with love, they battle in their own darkness to be a light of peace.
They stand in the gap when the call goes forth. They hold space when cries rip through the desert for justice. In the midst of the storm they are the refuge. Heart to heart and hand to hand, they encircle the wounded and their pure energy of intent warms and mends what was thought to be lost.
Ah, but they are weary and worn. They bow low with the weight and worry they have so willingly taken, and will even yet in their own sorrow carry another.
That deep breath they take is not a prayer for patience at your request. It is a recharging of their will and effort. When they shake their heads and straighten their shoulders, it is their very own silent battle cry.
They are there for you, to comfort, to help, to heal. They know that a burden taken without rancour is made lighter for the sharing, and that sure steps are made when hands are joined.
Their keening cries rise in the wind of the night, calling forth a fresh and better day. They toil alone, and for hours unknown. They lose their own selves, at times, and wonder where they have been, and how they journeyed forth and back whilst living their day to day.
They ask not for appreciation, or compensation. That mother's heart that lives in the soul of every woman could do no less, than to give their all. It is a part of their essence, the lifeblood that courses through their veins and the sweet nectar that feeds their spirit.
This then is for each of you. Listen, and know I mean each word.
I see you, and your beauty rips my heart with the brilliance you bring. I hear you, and I know that the music of angels falls from your lips. You enfold me in your arms, gather me unto your breast, and I know the warmth and respite I longed so for has been given at last.
Yes, I have a vision of Earth, healed ...
and you are the
my vision has called forth.
~ Ellen Apple 07-11-2016