In the Releasing There is Wonder Jennifer

Hope is woven in silvered strands

Of dreams soft fading at morning light

To be reborn in late night rows

Of thoughts and tears and tremors

Seeded like clouds, or crops, in silence, Or meditative might. One braided length Of awe, one of love, and one of scarred

Vulnerability. To be reborn is to be lost And found – both at once – raptured and Reacquainted, familiar and new. To be reborn Is to recognize the rainbowed horizons

Receding into the eyes’ peripheral haze. Ashes creating and consuming and Conflating storied selves with salvific threads Of filaments growing down and rooted up In successions of phoenix moves. The break That heals. The loss that returns. The life that Sacrifices. The Word that calms and moves, Transmuting in spirit, truth, and touch.