A Spark

Life is beautiful in pain, with the tinged edges of lofted memories.
Like peanut butter smeared on celary
Or caramel chocolate.

But this isn’t a conversation about food.

It’s been 5 months, so much has changed
Faster than even I could have arranged.
The barometer of time
Can erase much from the lines.
But never the emotion
Of words left unspoken.

I wonder sometimes about the options,
To roads of full of cautions;
In the end, people are themselves;
It’s too much to keep them assigned to their shelves.
They are free
Just like me.

I laugh now more than I cry,
Some things I remember with a sigh;
This path of decisions,
Not everyone wants to listen.

After so long in the dark,
I emerge in the sun, shattered and stark;
And yet I am comfortable with these marks.
It is my history, my grounding story.

The harsh disconnect of being unmoored,
A history shrouded in blank pages, torn;
That lack of anchor both empty and freeing,
Hence a future full of meaning.

I build again and again.
I try not to be discouraged by the end.
Because the close of a chapter begins another.

So I close the pages of yesterday;
My joys, regrets, and past ways.
Because new leaves have unfurled,
This growing tree expands my world.

Joy tinged with sadness,
Peace with gladness;
In a way I had to break,
To put the pieces in this brand new shape.

So in a way I must thank the trauma,
That ended so much drama;
And freed me to be more in line
With this beauty unconfined.

When the forest fire dies
Smoke and ashes flies
Seedlings will grow
And the coals will show

A brave new beginning. . .

 

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