Let the Hurt be Seen

I was summoned to this very spot when I caught sight of the hot, hot sun setting over a burnt grey sky where a winged shawl of angels repeated, “Let the hurt be seen.”

There beneath this oracle a hemline of trees was a chorus of protectors. And I knew it was safe as I felt the celestial fire rock me slowly to the left and circle me holy to the right; held in that pure space between sun and earth and the curve before day turns night.

​Amen. Amen. Amen.