The Beauty in the Mess

ruffles macro

Within each crease, beneath each scar, and etched in every vein

Her petals form a tale alive with hope carved out of pain;

Though deeply marred, disfigured, torn, her beauty proves to me

The choice to bloom despite her wounds is what has set her free.

I read within imperfect folds a novel penned by grace,

For harshest hurts transformed, redeemed, become the very place

Where subtle hues and fragile scent, those glories forged by stress,

Release our truest, highest self – the beauty in the mess.

 

 

Ambivalence

Jan Lake Rainstorm2

Curious, this inner clash

Where dark and light reside.

Storm and calm, hurt and balm

Irresolute inside.

Settled chaos, doubt’s resolve,

Sinner’s brawl with saint;

Weak and strong in tuneless song,

Liberty’s restraint.

 

 

 

 

Of Words and Water

Jan Lake duck2

Freedom forms feathers –

Rows and rows standing at attention,

Roman Legionnaires linked with their brothers,

Trained to repel any onslaught;

For,

Knowing my true worth,

Your words

Drip,

Bead,

Drop,

Puddle around me.

And I, like the duck,

Am not wet.

 

Epilogue

Jan Lake burnt blueberries

Out of the fire, something to eat,

Out of the chaos, something sweet;

As sure as the sunrise from darkness is torn,

After the heartache, Hope is reborn.

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My husband and I stumbled across a delightful blueberry patch growing in an area devastated by fire. What a delicious promise that the very things in life that distress and challenge us can be the beginning of something beautiful and fruitful  – if we will allow them to transform us.