The Truth

Before it sets you free,

it scatters your ashes,

and leaves you to reassemble yourself.

This is exhausting,

so you lie

with your arms above your head,

and you say shanti shanti shanti


Peace between demons and gods

between eaters and eaten,

between rich and poor,


Then, you switch to

In my darkest hour,

just like this:

In my darkest hour

I will call out to you

and you will wrap me

in a cocoon of white light

that I will call ‘courage’

and ‘strength’

and other pretty names,

and you will let me happen.

Then you are quiet.

Then you get up

and you happen.



Filed under poetry

2 responses to “The Truth

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