Her battlefield was soft and cozy,
Pillows and blankets strewn about,
Awaiting each and every soul who needed comfort…
Most often, her own.
She knew how lucky she was…
Blessed with privilege and plushness,
Healthy children who were loved,
And a few precious humans who cared for her.
She so wished that was enough.
Her heart was truly grateful,
For all of the many blessings in her life.
But she longed for peace.
The kind of peace found in slow, quiet mornings,
Evenings filled with candlelight and soul connection,
Conversations that filled her heart and made her laugh,
And gave her hope that everything was going to be okay.
She was hungry for that soul-level peace,
And she didn’t need anyone to save her,
But she found herself longing for understanding,
And maybe even someone to lean on now and then.
Strong arms that supported without taking over,
Words of reassurance but not promises…
Because she didn’t need those.
Whispers in the dark that held her heart.
A heart that had become battle-weary,
More tender and bruised that she ever could have imagined,
A soft and welcoming place when it could have easily hardened,
Open to only the most special souls.
Soulmates who always knew exactly what to say,
Saviors who made her laugh and always left her feeling inspired,
Beautiful humans who saw her for who she was mid-struggle and never let her forget it.
Precious cherubs who took her breath away in many different ways.
They held her up and probably didn’t know it most of the time,
When she felt like crumbling and instead, simply took a deep breath.
When she felt like crying but one of her people called unexpectedly,
And just held her heart from afar for a moment.
In these moments of exhausted gratitude,
Holding her head in her hands,
She couldn’t let herself think about two weeks from now or tomorrow or even tonight…she could only think about one tiny baby step at a time.
She took another deep breath, looked at the list she carried in her heart, and whispered out loud to herself: What’s next?