There is a melancholy
within me,
I always feared.
Like an orange sky storm,
endless and magnificent,
I feared it would swallow me up,
because it would.
And within the storm,
I would be washed away,
never to know
when I would return.
It would be endless,
magnificent and terrifying,
enlivening and isolating.
But now I see,
it was a sensitivity within me.
A fragility
to every difficult and precious thing,
an awareness of the journey each must take,
the trauma of birth and creation,
the trauma of living.
I didn’t know that I could,
that I could walk into the center
of the storm
the eye,
safe, seated and grounded,
sweetness, pain, and glory
swirling around me.
The overwhelming joy
that comes after the storm,
endless and magnificent
within me.
