My Lord,

Darkness opens doors
Creaklessly restoring a closed world
I age backwards,
Curled up, a little girl,
I remember the pollen as
Glistening fairies in the sunlight
Sun caressing my skin as
My only gentle warmth, too bright,
But not too hot to touch
I run my attentive fingertips
Through the lush baby blades
Of life emerging in song and sip
Of dew and adamant assertions
Beauty in breaths of transformation
I felt the nature of existence
Railing against the aberration
Present in the shadows:
The travesty of grief,
Teeth set on teeth, cold expectations,
Distorted affections and beliefs,
And I was weak and gasping
Under those grasping hands
Panting between in bright reprieves,
Warring with the dark demands
Crushed in full view,
“A pity,” and, “a waste”
But in the sky some fierce burning beauty
Radiated the idea of grace

Impossible to smother or erase.

Through the door I step,
I see. I recall the days
In sudden omnipresent detail
Inhaling full bouquets
I begged for an end, or
A true start
Torrential tears filling the moat
Incapable of protecting exposed hearts
Standing in full view
Bruised and stripped bare
Subject to untold beatings
Distasteful in the public square,
But unimpeded.
While under knuckle and condemnation
I watched the sky, I,
Caressed by warm salvation.

In me, these moments live
Because I lived; I still do
For with my death folded into Yours,
My life now flows from You.

About viewingcamelot

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