Surrender

Surrender

A message came in on the whispering lips of the four winds…
Surrender.
Make peace of this mess. This strewn about chaos. Make peace.
Surrender.
The whispering winds are not always gentle. A resuscitating pulse turns to a beat in the hollow drum of my rib cage. My heart is alive again, raw and booming out of my chest. Then- it becomes urgent.
Surrender.
There is no giving up. There is no giving in. This is a sacred whisper-turned-heart-pounding-impossible-to-ignore calling that inspires only the most reverent and holy bowing-down.
Surrender.
Humbled and bent low, I flow like a sacred river, emptying myself into myself… until I finally choose release. Letting go. Surrendering.
So this holy well may be full again.