Life in the Ruins

By Fagairolles 34 (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

 It is difficult to emerge from a former life, when one was living in the tombs.

I grant you… it wasn’t a literal dwelling. Indeed, it had all started full of life and the rush of liberation.  All sorts of rich pathways were explored. I expended a tremendous amount of energy and creativity in the former path.

By Fagairolles 34 (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

But there was some life in it. The roots of what I once had were valuable. Simply what had been grafted on— that is, whatever pleased me– was not fit to survive. This melange did not thrive, and did not nurture me in the long term.  So I had to start from it’s barest, distant origins.  That is what brought me here.

Those dry, rusty, buried roots that burst forth in an arid place, bringing peace amid upheaval, loneliness and turmoil. It pulled up moisture and loam from unexpected depths and filled in a brittle empty heart.

By Fagairolles 34 (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0], via Wikimedia Commons

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