Clear Wind Blows Over the Moon
COMPASSION
<This was a poem I wrote for a friend who’s daughter had just committed suicide – with some minor edits>Compassion is said to be a noun. A noun: a person, place or thing. I guess its definition is that of a thing… but can an emotion be a thing?
I like to think of compassion as a place… a warm, safe place… a haven. A steady firm, grounded place… where one can rest; rest your weary bones… rest your troubled, heavy head… when you feel so alone that you’d rather be dead… this is the place of calm in the storm… when your pain is too much… and there’s no more you can take… and you feel you can’t go on.
It’s a place that is always available. A place that goes on for you when you feel so blue and so low… that you don’t…
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