Grace

The heart softens, curls forward, arches into opening and falls with weight or ease upon the earth.

We stumble, breathe, rejoice and weep. Simple breath into the heartbeat beyond the holding that longed for so much.

It is stilled, empty; Filled. Grace comes in the morning. The Soul sheds all but Itself. Creator, Divine Love of all Names.

In surrender we see the decree. We are there, we are free.

Linda Willows

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