What is it which makes a healer?
What special talent is there to feel?
Why for some is the pain so harsh?
Why can't reality be easier to bear?
Is it always to be as thus?
The pain and harsh teeming despair?
Ohh please, how can I bear it?
Always knowing I must, for it is my salvation.
Where is the light so desperately needed?
Has it turned away and left me; alone - barren???
Why does a gift such as healing,
Bear such a hurting empty feeling?
When will the hurting stop wounding?
When can the healer become healed herself?
Is it the pain that makes the healer?
Or can she reach beyond the hurts she bears
To come to terms with the pain?
Within the healer a stong spirit must reside.
At times the light seems to be hidden,
Coming out only when need doth arise.
A healer heals others.
For her it is not thought,
Out of instinct alone the need,
To help others bear their pain.
The day will come when all that sorrowing
Must come out from where it resides.
As the healer reaches inside,
Her healing light begins to shine.
Becoming one with the light,
Joy then will shine inside.
So darkness no more controlling.
Life filled with love, laughter , delight...
A healer's burden often called gift,
Which only one of true spirit can abide.
Gift or burden of another's sorrow.
Never letting her own light wither and die.
The healer can heal ...
The question needing an answer ,
Who is it that heals the healer???
That answer resides in the light....
This poem is written by Jan Tallevast and is copyrighted 1997. Please feel free to email me from my gallery page for permsission for personal usage. No commercial usage will be granted. Thank you.
