When We Rise Up From Our Bed of Tears

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Sometimes it’s okay to walk away for a time, to leave the dark and allow the sun to slide warm and languid across your cheek. To climb a mountain, spread your arms to the cerulean sky, to howl fierce and glad and free at the filling moon.
We have been initiated in the worst of ways, and the price was the death of a baby, babies, a child, children, or perhaps of fertility and physical wholeness, and always of tenderly tend...