I excavated the ruins of the lost city of my youth and I discovered my inner child buried there.
I did not have to heal him for he healed me, exalted me to the highest of places and gave me the Name above all other names.
Myself.
I was raised from the dead by the dead and given new life by the ones I had betrayed and insulted in my ignorance.
That seems to me to be the definition of grace.
There is so much beauty and healing power in the night and fog, my love, in the destructive impulse and the timeless tragedy of the forgotten and the lonely.
We are much, much younger than we dream in our hubris and we are far greater than we could possibly know.
And I tell you now - Love is the only answer.
Yes, Love is the only and final answer.
It resurrects the dead, laughs at time and stretches its arms out wide in childlike expectation to the great mother.
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