Sunday, March 3, 2019

rites of spring


It is the nexus of these things

That must come together

In their time, in their way

As it is the rebirth that binds us

As we are all but fleeting beings,

wound as a whole that

struggle and survive

unraveling against time

we must rise in the rebirth of each fleeting moment

whole—



undaunted from the experience

as if it bears no weight to our soul

as if supporting a lie that makes it hurt any less

but I come to bear my scars with pride

as if they are armor that holds all my inner anger in place

where it comes out of the softest part of me

I feel it in every blossom

I hold it in every breath

And there is a place beyond words

Where I feel it as an extension of something more than myself.

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