Mines & Ripples

Image from Unsplash

 I miss digging into the mists of my mind, to scavenge and mine like an explorer not afraid of what they’ll find. 

I drop words to the page, no matter my age, and when the secrets are revealed and healed, my words linger on.

I’m not a joke, nor a fad, nor one to hold back, I see what is there and my scribe is born.

I carry wisdom from pain, loss, and life’s circumstances, knowledge that only death and mistakes can bring. 

I lost my way, lost my understanding of life’s cycles and how healing is a personal thing done on the darkness and solitude of one’s own making.

I found my way back, the path hidden and dark ahead, one step in front of the other I gained my way to the truth

That without my darkness I am not whole, without my understanding I cannot heal forward. 

I train now on the water that was meant to drown me, my steps leaving ripples for others to follow my wake.

I see the ripples of those who went before, those who didn’t let cultures distance from life change them.