When I can be the witness,
all manner of miracles occur –
old wounds heal, the past
reveals itself to be released,
present dramas play themselves
out without sinking emotional
talons into my soft skin. The
witness welcomes truth and
dares to meet reality on its
own terms. It is the ground
in which the seeds of
transformation take root
and finally flower. When
the witness is awake, the
lake of mind is still, and
in that mirrored surface,
I see my own true face as
Spirit smiling back at me.