See, younger selves, the
Current stained royal blue
Shingled
House with white trim.
New owner
Rakes leaves.
The large oak tree,
A ghost memory.
The black metal numbers
85
Gone from the white pillar
Gracing a corner of the
Front porch.
Prickly bushes
Vanished,
No longer there to
Scratch thin red lines
Into your bare legs.
Stone walkway
Disappeared,
No path leading
Any of you
Back here.
See, younger selves,
She is gone.
The one who terrified you
For all those too many years.
She could not give away
What she didn’t have to give.
Long shadows of her darkness,
Hurt, pain, a
Mushroom cloud of rage
Escaped into the light,
Heat, and Fire, a
Big Ball of Love.
Purification by flame,
Now ashes in an urn on
Another porch.
******
Acceptance, compassion,
Grace
Grow.
Embodied peacefulness
Transcends a
Traumatic past.
Grateful for this fuel
Alchemizing petrified shame
Into tears of
Unwept grief,
Unwavering,
Unspoken
Unconditional love.
Eyes for Unspoken Love
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Laura, my friend and poet. I love this !