Flames of love lick at the drabness and drear, at the dross of life and transform them by consuming them with fire. Beauty arises from the ashes, just as a smile lights up and transforms a wrinkled, weary face. Bow to the beauty and the sacredness of all things. This is transfiguration, shining light into the darkness not to illuminate it, but to redeem it.
Art and text © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2018
Pale blue lady, aqua mantled, kindness gazing out from your alabaster face, carved deep into the rock and our hurting souls. You smile, and the world is changed. Adoring the love on your dappled skin, ripples of reflected grace, the water feels less cold somehow, though we are up to our necks; and the tide is of no concern, merely the sea breathing: in and out, in and out. A caverned womb of healing, where we might be knit together once more, and our stretched sinews feel the call to entwine and relax. We go under and rise again, replenished by the carrier of living water.
© Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2016
Photo from Pixabay