On the Soul’s Journey to Freedom
There she was. Backlit. Standing straight. “Willowy” her friends used to say. It seemed like she stood still for an eternity. The breeze, wisping through the open shutters behind her, dancing with her long skirt. On each side of her the attic came to its shallow peak. Not a muscle moved.
Suddenly a tiny ebb was glimpsed. It flowed in a slow creep down her cheek. A solitary stream leaving behind it the shadow much like the shadowed days since she’d been here.
In this room that seemed to her to echo with laughter of days gone by, she felt as though she was the only shadow here.
Light seemed to gleam from every corner. How she wished some of that light would pierce into her own soul-shine its opening rays and dispel the darkness!
That’s all it was right? Just the absence of light? What if she just surrendered to it? What if she opened up without being cut and just let the light IN. What if everyone could suddenly SEE her.
Would they hate her? Would they punish her? Would they make her go away?
How could that be worse than this? She was already living all of those.
The sun glistened in and she felt it stronger. She FELT it-she felt it and she liked it.
A tiny ray sprouted at the corner of her mouth.
Hope. She felt HOPE.
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