When Wholeness Seems Out Of Reach

When Wholeness Seems Out Of Reach

I look down to see multi-colored beads

hanging from my neck, resting on my chest:

Those different shades of blue break through

the weariness of mind to soothe and delight.

I want to feel this way

when I look back up again at all parts of life

surrounding me. I want to be transported

by every color and shade:

Instead, the sharper ones cut me.

The softer ones call me a fraud.

The ones reflecting light seem light,

and make me feel heavy by comparison.

I know this feeling:

I am disconnected.

I am at a loss.

I am at a loss.

Loss, my worst enemy,

stealing all happiness from my footfall,

all the joy from my chatter.

Silence is my shadow.

Silence is my shadow.

I love it, but when I stay too long,

I become what I am not,

nor have ever intended to be.

Can I start again?

May I start again?

I want to start again,

But with great knowing.

Not a rebirth, really,

but a resurrection:

I don’t want to lose

what I have already worked to become.

Not a resurrection,

but a rebirth:

I want to be new and unshattered,

without wounds darting in and out of memory.