Alone and empty, dense
And grieving,
This is the still point.
The silence
Between the notes.
The I of yesterday and and the me
Of tomorrow
Are negotiating a treaty,
Praying for armistice
In my chest.
It’s easy to contest little details
While the dam
Of grieving
Is cracking.
Let go.
Let go!
An ocean of tears begs me,
My arms have formed a dam around my heart.
But, no longer.
As the flood takes whole trees
And abandoned houses up
In its terrifying caress,
We watch, silently weeping.
Standing on a barren
Muddy bank,
The bitter salt taste clings to my lips.
Pure empty potential
And wholeness in my self,
Yes.
This is freedom.
