Come closer. I'll show you what I'm made of.
While you laugh behind my back and discard me like a piece of trash, I get stronger. I remember how they hated Jesus, first, for no good reason. It unnerves little people when you don't need them, when you don't worship them. I bet you want me to care, to care that you don't include me in your orbit. I want to say to you, oh nasty one, you can't handle my light. You're too dense, grotesque, and small.
Not me.
What do I need any of you for when I've got Mary in my circle? Sometimes, she gives me that look when I step out of the circle to retrieve my sword. She quietly tells me to let it go. I insist I just need a bit more time.
So I grab hold of my sword that looks abandoned laying by an oak tree. Do you know how good it feels in my hands to be holding this sword, despite its heaviness? It's as though it was crafted just for me, for someone like me, for someone built like me.
I drag it in my usual way across the lush green grass on top of a hill I still can't understand how I got here. I overlook the landscape. What I see out there is what resides within. Peaks and valleys. I'm more than okay with all of it. It's never boring. There's so much to observe, to experience, to feel, in this place.
Do you think I need someone like you here? It's clear you don't need someone like me over there with the rest of you. Good. It's good. I'm good. You're good. But, not that good.
You're such a stupid child, you and your boorish face. What did your husband ever see in you? You treat him like a dog and he stays silent and obedient. I often wonder when he's going to lose it on you. But maybe he enjoys being pushed around that way.
I dream up all the ways I won't have to lift a finger for karma to do its job. I just have to keep being me, to keep being kind, to keep minding my own business, to keep creating and let others be whoever they are or want to be. I can step aside, a bit to the left or a bit to the right and get out of whatever shit's coming my way. You can't touch me. You can't hurt me with your words. Eventually, they'll all come back to haunt you, like they will for each of us. And I'll be smiling in my usual sweet way...because...I'm back in the circle...with Mary.
Thank goodness for Her. She's going to replenish my Well so I never go without.
So Mote It Be.
