Years Later

September 26, 2015 | Reflections from some of the nuns

The Artist And The Monk

Years Later

The harsh lines of trauma soften in the gentle word.
The colours of experience return.

I’ll never be the jagged rocks again, the sea has washed me silken.
Soft smoothed stone cradled in the wet sand .

The colours of experience return.
What a quiet deep sinking into calm.

Soft smoothed stone cradled in the wet sand.
I lay listening to whisperings of friends in conversation.

What a quiet deep sinking into calm.
I’ll never be the jagged rocks again, the sea has washed me silken.

I lay listening to whisperings of friends in conversation.
The harsh lines of trauma soften in the gentle word.

Sr. Veronica chandler c 2015