Light Between the Cracks – A Poem

I am outside myself looking inwards.light in hand

There is a storm within me,

one of fire and rain,

spark and water.

Its winds howl inside my skin,

filling my head

with words that make no sense,

but hurt all the same.

I feel droplets of blood,

carved from my flesh by those words,

fall into the whirlwind

of the storm I carry.

The winds crack and chip

at the crystal chalice that holds me together.

There are other things in that storm,

other flotsam and jetsam,

that take bites out of me,

harvesting what I’ve cultivated

in order to survive.

Yet within all that whirling darkness,

inside that wind that presses

at the boundaries of my glass chalice,

there is a light.

That light is but a kernel right now,

a small seed that glows

throughout all the darkness

and the shadows that look spiders’ webs.

As I stand back, looking at myself,

I realize on thing:

The kernel of light shines so brightly,

but I would not see it without the darkness.

I touch the crystal,

and can feel the winds brush

against my hands.

I try to wrap my arms around myself

and hope this will make

the small kernel of light


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