Friday 12 February 2010

The Magic Carpet

When we are down, we look at the clouds. We see nothing else.

Storm clouds, dark clouds.

A deep depression.

Friends and family come together to shoulder our trouble on a magic carpet of love. Raising us up to better see the sky.

If we look at the clouds, the supporters silently shuffle round beneath us, turning the carpet so our face looks to the sunlight. We might turn our head away, not ready to see it yet.

Quietly, the carpet shuffles round again, trying to direct us to the light.

Sometimes the burden of holding the carpet up is immense. The supporters know they must not buckle under the weight of grief; yours or their own. They hold their breath. Heads down, arms across each other’s trusty shoulders, they side step around the black hole of despair, determined not to let you fall again.

The magnitude of the task is bolstered by love, by trust and by faith in you.

They want no gratitude, only to see your face turn to the light.

They know that somewhere, deep in your soul, you are aware of the ride.

1 comment:

Hilsbils said...

Thank you, I was pleased with this one.