grace
At first I stayed in love. Then she died and I remained in devotion, yet shunned for 20yrs in exile.
Falling in love was blinding. Like a nuclear explosion, but unhurried, it erased everything from sight.
Then the shockwave came, and under a silent grey sky revealed the gold, blue and green as grey rubble in a new dawn.
Disasters progress slowly; their irresistible descent stepping down through decades, the paths across their sea frozen, thin by day break each night.
Survivors imagined as heroes are invigorated by rain and simply sprout again; having then served our dreaming they are quickly forgotten.
If I am fortunate
this new world greets me with apathy,
with smiles, and silence,
as in monastic retreat
there is collateral beauty,
and at its end, in faith,
with hope there is grace.
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