While meditating this past month on the theme of being loved before we can love, I have often come back to the visual of a person walking through a desert. My thoughts were connected to how so many of us cannot accept how much love we need until we realize how broken we are. Or cannot accept how loved we really are because our souls are so parched, poisoned, or weary.

This led me to think of flowers opening up to the sun and drinking in its life-giving rays. Even in the drier regions of the world, things still bloom in their season. And their beauty opening in those arid places that seem void of life is all the more stunning to the observing eye.

These musings led me to write this short poem: Drink the Rays.

You start so well,

a promising spark,

a flare set to burn, bright.

But lies and snares creep in like snakes,

scales for your tearless eyes.

Your posture slumps

and tugs your view down.

Flare hits a frown,

wounded one;

stay there.

When the way is dark,

the path grows dim,

and all the questions come.

That’s the time for light to shine

from somewhere high above.

Lift up your head

and raise your gaze.

Drink deep the rays,

dear child;

be loved.