All that is hard and heavy turns to spirit.
It cannot help but eventually
Become like a cup of ink
That is poured into the ocean.
I do not doubt that for a time
The ink darkens the water,
Obscures and displaces the light,
Leaching out its tendrils
Staining what it touches.
But eventually,
Finally,
The ink must break down into its smallest elements,
And even the stains become only faint shadows
Barely noticeable to the outer eye.
This does not belittle the awful impact of a cup full of shadow.
It is only to say, that in an ocean of goodness,
In an expanse of health and light,
A cup of dark can only prevail for so long,
Until it is overcome and transformed back into spirit,
Back into its smallest elements,
Received into one body,
To be made whole
And healed.
Used with permission by Carrie Newcomer