You tell me you've been hurt, scarred and wounded. Why so naive and pretend only you exist? Did you not see the butterfly, slowly emerging to life, burdened by the heavy cocoon, the same that once protected her? Did you not see her plight as she struggled and flapped her wings to fly, so she is finally free?
So tell me, how will you ever harvest the Crop of His Love, if you never took the time to plant, the seeds of your grief in the Earth? Why hold your hurt so sacred, to avoid letting it go, that you erect a pyramid for the dead and call it holy?
Close your eyes, you foolish man. Inside you, lies a fountain of love, that no force can ever destroy. Seek that fountain and let it overflow your heart with its love, until your mind loosens its grips on your soul and you too begin to fly.
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