At the surreal crossroads
of soul searching,
where dawning truth
meets the anguish
of overwhelming resistance,
a butterfly suddenly hovers,
whispering:
Let go,
of what no longer works
or won my losses
or choices . . .
it seemed forever
weighing mind
over matter
that I finally
wake up . . .
Change my mind
empowered
by intense
acknowledgement
or epiphany . . .
And my virtue
is gratitude
or relief
in recognition
that illusion of comfort
in denial or sacrifice
is no longer mine . . .
There is no shame
in my suffering
nor healing
in silent torment . . .
it's time
for the blue bird
to sing
a love song.
