A Question of Awakening.

I hide from it no more poem-spiritual-awakening-death-reborn-life-healing, self healing, blog, love
as I gather up the trash laid bare before me,
buried in the rubble of my old bones.

Hugging, holding, loving,
finally accepting and seeing truth
as all dissolves in the light of one passing,
and all I thought to be real
exists no longer, and through love
a new reality emerges.

New yet ancient,
and all my fears existed not.
If only I’d known to flip the coin
and behold the other side
as truth
but that was further than my reach,
as the voices of masses grew loud
and years ticked by like the second hand on a big round clock.

Alive dead reborn, alive dead born
it was all the same as misery
entrenched us.
The decision to awaken always there
as we flailed in the dark
not knowing how or why
or even that a light switch was so near.

By Sharon C

 

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