When it was time
For her to deliver,
The fruit of her pain,
She wrapped around her,
The heavy cloak
Of unending shame,
And withdrew,
Before the break,
Of the bleak dawn,
To the hinterland.
Each step she took,
Farther away
From the spritely place,
Of her wonder years,
Drew her deeper,
Into the depths,
Of an engulfing darkness,
Where she lay down herself,
And gasped for breath,
As the harrowing pain,
Of the overpowering shame,
Held her in a tight embrace,
Refusing to let go.
In the throes
Of her agony,
She yearned,
To be delivered
Of her shame,
But it refused;
For it has a way,
Of breaking rules,
So it prolonged
Its gestation,
To resist manifestation,
And while it grew,
She had shrunken,
Until one day,
It drew her in,
And they became one
In essence,
And she finally had
Deliverance,
In turning to dust,
From whence,
She had come.
Chasing Sunshine 