And a woman spoke, saying, 'Tell us of Pain.' <br />And he said: <br />Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. <br />Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. <br />And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy; <br />And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields. <br />And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief. <br />Much of your pain is self-chosen. <br />It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self. <br />Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity: <br />For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen, <br />And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.<br /><br />Khalil Gibran<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pain-xvi/
