Scattering shards, to expose tender wounded debris.
Embedded roots moan to be left alone,
To return to hide,
In dark crag comfort, of the jagged but familiar.
Tilling old with new,
The plow, indiscriminately cruel,
Surfaces the moist forgotten and drives low,
The high and dry.
Protests and queries yield no reprieves,
Anguish and anger stain memories,
As salted blur of love that grieves.
Eventually... quietly...
The dust of disturbance settles,
Abstractly to receive,
the nutrients of mourning's due.
Finally, amidst discernment's filtering array
of discovery and distraction,
Seeds conceived in chaotic change,
Emerge triumphantly,
As miracles of new flowerings.~ Colleen Cahoon
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