by Neena Verma
We came cloaked
in the ache of our wounds.
On a numbing rollercoaster of longing,
through dark underground tunnel of trauma,
from the home that had come apart
by the shattering earthquake of loss.
Chained in pain, we sat with our grief
And allowed our tears to cleanse our pain.
We walked into the dark night of soul.
We implored the grey of evening twilight,
And gifted it our innermost light.
We sowed strength
in the garden of our sorrow.
And held in reverence
the Sun that rose in our courtyard,
the flower of grace that bloomed
and filled the underground tunnel
with its fragrance of faith.
Thus began our growth pilgrimage,
ensuing from the rollercoaster of grief.
The chinks of resilience showed up
and undid the chains of pain.
We walked into the
blackhole of our lament.
And woke up
in the galaxy of love.
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