The ache
is always an ache
This
earthy time when things burst
Inside
and out,
The
remnants of chill
Chipped
away with each rising degree,
This
elevation that pounds away
At the
containment
Until
everything explodes
The ache
is always an ache
Rubbing
against the world
Until
friction set me free,
This
time, this moment, always painful
In a way
that is not painful at all,
The
elaborate ritual
We need
to succeed at the most basic
Of
faiths, this belief we will rise up
And flow
out over this frigid existence.
Each
time this time, I come to love the ache
For what
I might expect it to lead to,
The
bursting and the delight
That
comes after we churn up
The
heat, and blossom,
This
ache is always the ache
And will
always make me feel free.
No comments:
Post a Comment