Oh that her heart would shyly blossom in the faint sun, that renewal’s warmth would seep into her hardened clay. Oh that her hands would move with compassion for others, that her mind would sprout faith in the tender arms of day. Oh that her soul would praise God with the robins of spring, that her feet would transport her to new heights, unexplored. Oh that divine kindness would quicken her affections, that her conscience would thaw like waterfalls at the fjords. Oh that a soft smile would be reborn on her pink lips, that her potential would grow into maturity. Oh that her eyes would emerge from stale hibernation with sweet visions of purpose, promise and purity.
Dear One, thank you. Such a beautiful prayer. May this come true for your beloved daughter and for every once healthy and whole person damaged by this ideology. May they all realize they have been sold a lie and awaken to their true selves once again, as they were created to be. They were made in God's image. made to be loved and to be loving. In His love, Indio.
From the depths of our souls, such loss invites poetry. It’s cruel inspiration, but inspiration nonetheless. Your words speak volumes
Dear One, thank you. Such a beautiful prayer. May this come true for your beloved daughter and for every once healthy and whole person damaged by this ideology. May they all realize they have been sold a lie and awaken to their true selves once again, as they were created to be. They were made in God's image. made to be loved and to be loving. In His love, Indio.
My heart aches for your daughter, and you.