I gather this garment
Of silence about me,
Stillness that used to be
Threatening, its needles
Of fear lurking,
Probing wounds of my past scars to my psyche.
Now in the hands of Love
These needles have knitted
A silence so beautiful
That nothing
Can hurt. I draw skeins
Of silence with this healing garment about me,
As its stitches permeate
The crevices of my soul
Whispering, Peace.
Be still—and know:
Now all that would harm you
Is knitted to warm you.
We cannot know that we are illuminated by a great light simply by looking up into the sky. But if we lower our heads and look down at our feet, we can clearly see the long, dark shadow that stretches out from us. We know that the darker and blacker that shadow is, the brighter is the light that shines upon us. Thus, we have been told to look at our own dark shadows [within].