ABSOLUTION

Beautiful. Sacred. Like touching the wings of a butterfly.
It cannot be spoken, it is so secret.
Just a dreaming whisper on the tongues of the Gods.
The cobwebs are cleared from tired eyes.
This is when old wounds begin to heal.

The Joy is as painful as the knife that did the cutting,
Rending spirit from flesh in cathartic enlightenment.
The only two friends the Wounded have smile,
Love and Time,
This is when old wounds begin to heal.

The howling within quiets and the mind returns.
Dreams arise reborn from ashy ruins of living.
The realization that there is a piece within,
Whole and beautiful,
This is when old wounds begin to heal.

We begin to forgive ourselves for who we are.
We forgive others for who they’ve been.
The realization that there is Tomorrow,
And Yesterday is but a shadow.
This is when old wounds begin to heal.

Copyright © 2007 Daelin