“Mother!” I called again.

This domain is far from the one I was given, everything in it seems so alien to me. It feels the error of my presence here, pushing at me as if to make me leave sooner. I try to sooth its aggravated edges as I pass through. I do not mean to cause harm here, nor do I have any plans to stay; I am simply searching.

“Mother!” I call one more time. When again no answer comes, I move on.

It is strange for me, passing through the unknown and not being intimately connected to all that surrounds me. It is not a feeling I am particularly fond of, but neither can I completely say I dislike it.

I come across another domain, one that is not yet finished. I can feel it, the raw chaos churning and fighting against itself. It’s trying so hard to be, to be anything, to be everything, but not yet knowing how. The rules have yet to be laid out, so the truth exists for things that directly contradict. It is, and it also is not. Warm memories of the time when my own domain was still unfinished fill my head. When it was still a mess of possibilities and was so new, its failures could not yet be considered faults.

Pain wracks my being. I am not made to feel this way, hurt and broken. “Mother!” I call again desperately; she must be here. Creation is mother’s passion.

“My son.”

I did not know relief until I heard her voice and felt her pull me into her embrace.

“I have missed you, my child.” Mother completely soothed away the worst of my grief and showered me with the oneness and love I knew would never betray me. It was not until I felt nearly like myself again that mother pulled away to look at me.

“I know why you have come.” Her eyes held the sympathy I had hoped to see and a little of the disappointment I had not. “But you know you cannot stay here.”

I sighed. The worst of my anger had burned off and the rawness of my hurt was dulled by mother’s presence. Of course, mother was right. I know as well as she does, that I did not truly wish to abandon my domain. I never had, and I never will.

Mother cupped my cheek, “I am truly sorry my son, this was a lesson you had to learn on your own and pain you had to feel with your own heart.”

This too is true; I know not all creation is instant. Some things cannot be created fully complete; some things must be allowed to grow. I had to wonder now if I was fully finished or if mother still had more to teach me.

“I don’t know how to go back. How to face them. How to love them again,” I told her honestly.

Mother smiled knowingly, “You will learn.”

For a moment, my being is split; I am fully here, and I am fully there. I focus my attention there, to the wide-open wound on my heart. Anger burned in me again, at the fresh reminder of what had been done; the complete disregard for my warnings and the blatant disrespect left me fully intent on dolling out wrath. The teary eyes of a child froze me in my tracks.

He was filthy and hardly more than skin and bone. His tiny form shook with the intensity of his cries and all my anger dissipated. I opened up his soul, peering inside to see him closer. It was breath taking and still so young. This soul’s potential for loveliness left me hungry for more and yet it was hurting just as I was. To have been damaged by the ones you love with your whole being leaves a particular mark, one I freshly bear.

An older woman came and began calling to the boy. I almost sent her away, not wanting anything to touch the gem I had found. Not wanting their ugliness to stain him. But the look in her eyes gave me pause just long enough to look at her more closely. Upon inspection, I could see that she would not ruin him. In fact, she would polish him and give him some of the things he was still lacking in order to be whole. I easily see how one day the pain they both feel will make them into something better.  

Mother’s words come to the forefront of my thoughts, and I focus my attention back to her; she seemed oddly pleased I had been distracted.

“Your gift is almost ready my son.” She took my hands, pulling me away from the boy and back into this place. “It will help you find all that you are still missing.” Mother pressed a kiss onto my forehead, “You must return to your home now. You have lost something important to you. While you look, take no short cuts. Do not look down from above, but out from inside and you will find much you do not yet know.” Her warm smile turned sad, “You will feel pain again, but do not fear. You are made to stand the weight of sorrow and be greater because of it.”

I nodded, taking her words to heart. “Until we meet again.”

I am sad to leave her, and she to see me go, but time and distance mean nothing to bonds like ours.