Those who’ve truly loved, know that healing is very, very hard. One must tell themselves they’re healed long before they are. It’s a lie we need to bank on, as without it, healing becomes a slippery slope.
The Delicate Threads Between Joy and Sorrow
Love, Loss, and Mirrored Dances: An Unpoem
Delicate Threads
Label this as you will — a poem, prose, or simply a scattered echo of thought bounding across the cosmos. Unfettered by labels, it soars as a bird through boundless azure skies.
My hands move in resonance with the word movement and its luxury, the rest of me remains still, captured in unwhitewashed contemplation. Epic rhapsody between upper and lower, the disaccord is a mirroring of a somewhat reluctant Irish dance.
In another dimension, the contrast makes me spin.
Lately, life whispers to me in mere abstractions. I gather bits of existential evidence, soldering them together hoping to form the daisy’s chain, yet what unfolds is a surprising tapestry, of everything one might unexpect. Does this resonate within you, or is this peculiar dance mine alone? Yet, it matters little, for in the difference, I find…
