The Great Reversal

bluesprucesky

Gravity snowed your shoulders cold,

bent your burdened frame,

watched while troubles multiplied,

whispered words of shame;

Ascension climbed on trouble’s back,

chose the way of love –

soared above the blizzard where

forgiveness reigns above.

For What She’s Worth

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Fallen, but not discarded.

Her value lies not in her

ability to contain

her chaos within set seams,

clutch remnants when brute tidal

waves beat against her dormers,

but in her audacity

to bloom down in the trenches.

 

Ignition

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When she saw the light,

something in her cells

got charged. Turned on.

Illuminated. And she

knows now that fragility

and brilliance hold hands

in dark places,  a

collision course with

gloom that can eclipse

even her pain, obscure even

the Shadowlands. Her

smile says it all; I am

alive, I am conqueror,

I am free. Somewhere

in the darkness, a match

strikes against a flint

as black as pitch –

ignition.

Diamonds

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As carbon lies in hidden tombs,

the weight of the world on its shoulder,

its cells align, and, groaning deep,

its troubles make it smolder;

but as the pressures bearing down

create unbearable stresses,

from earthen womb bursts forth a gem

of diamond-studded tresses.

.

As your hope lies in hidden tombs,

the weight of the world on its shoulder,

its cells align, begin to weep,

for troubles make it smolder;

but as the pressures bearing down

create unbearable stresses,

from spirit’s womb bursts forth a gem

transformed, by pain’s successes.

 

 

 

 

Breaking Through

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Forest feels like second skin by now,

beam upon beam raised in self-defence.

Logging permits don’t pass easily –

deforestation is distinctly painful.

But when pines part,

oxygen stirs,

canopy is cut,

there You are,

breaking through boughs,

 illuminating dark and stained cells,

ushering in daylight

where angels feared to tread.

And as dead branches fall,

tentacles tremble in triumph;

sap stirs

and green grows

and oh, the grace

of breaking through…

Eternal Spring

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O temporary tomb,

O momentary mask,

you may have won the battle,

but you won’t have the last laugh.

Icy tentacles over the years

have but strengthened resolve

and built up resistance;

patience will finish its work

as Faith trumps treason.

Hope hangs onto higher hearth,

for true love conquers even death,

and ushers in

eternal spring…