Inked

During the blue hour before sunriseebfb7717b473789c37482ed2001b7635.jpg
when endings come, it’s easy at first

to explain them away – he really didn’t
love me, it was time to move on. Easier

than acknowledgement, a needle
inked with black, a road forged in

memories, cleansed in tears.
Each prick joined to the next creating

an indelible canvas ready for pigment,
deeply etched into tender soft skin,

first a wound, then a healing, finally
a brilliant map to somewhere fair,

all designed from an end point.
When death holds out her hand, I draw

her near to me for balance and plunge
into untried genesis with the rising sun.

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

I grabbed death’s hand much too often these past few weeks. From the passing of a child in my school, to the loss of a husband of a dear friend. The one-year anniversary of my father’s journey through the veil and several more, I am a bit numb.

And it is not just physical deaths that bit me. Loss this month in many other ways has, strangely enough, kept me balanced. I am learning that there will always be an end. An end I probably won’t see coming. But when the night fades into daylight, as it always will, just as the moon waxes and wanes, I can move ahead knowing the cycle will repeat itself and all will be well.

Surrender, release, being present in the moment, have been themes here for a while now. It must be the winter, the dark, a time for solitude, reflection, and rest so when spring comes, there will be clarity.

Namaste, my friends, you are the Light in this world. Shine.

Lexanne

P.S.

I’m turning sixty in May. The above image is of a tattoo found on a Serbian ice maiden who was found fairly well preserved. It is a powerful image for me. My Slavic genes find it stunning. I’ll let you know if I take the plunge into a new genesis.

If you would like to receive a bit of my poetry and reflections each week, please sign up for my newsletter JOURNEY/lex. I would love to share with you.

Sunrise by Brian Crain

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