reflection to rise

written 1-24-12


a shed,
   a woman,
     a quest toward a whole life.

bugs - yes. work - yes.

but also
frolicking, tall grasses,
  fields of goldenrod, wild rose, daisy,
        friends with upturned faces.

but also
  a choir at dusk,
the laying on of hands,
the communal nesting instinct
   of forest prey
              remembered
  and rejoiced.

pain - yes.
   in the service of a dream.

fear - yes. and
  the triumph
    of walking through it,

no matter the posture

and finding yourself brave.

guilt - yes.
at the hands of the eternal patriarch,
solemnly laid to rest once -
    not for all. but he is gone
   from me now,
                   and so -

no

  longer

am i the reflection
              the molded shape
                    the cowering brave one
                   with clenched fist
              WAITING to explode.

now
   my time has come,
  has fully dawned,
      broken horizon
 with cries of joy and lust

            to blaze unburdened
                            over field
                            and pond
                            and forest

restrained by none
       the outflow pure and shimmering
           with all -

rage              joy     utter despair       love
 passion     guilt           longing

     and all the bold certainty of

                      the sun.