Please

I don't need you to change me.

Just help me become

who I am. 

 

It is good
and very good for me
to feel precisely what I feel,

this cloud of grief,

this downpour of despair,

without any names or notes

to self.

 

Only let me dissolve

in a healing rain

that penetrates all my shadows.

A liquid sliver of sun may arise
on the jagged edge of mourning.

Or not.

 

Now I can feel everything

because I have tasted

the night.

 

How a bud bursts, spilling
beauty from its wound.

How the chrysalis shatters, 

frees the golden 

moth from her season 

of uncertainty.

How a single tear 

becomes the sky.

 

 

Photo by Laurent Berthier