Breathing My Way Back In

Sealed tight,

locked down.

For so long

this body waited

with only the

barest of breaths,

in darkness.

Waiting for

the blow to land;

to be invisible in plain sight;

the pain of daily exclusion;

cruel words that seared the soul;

needing but not receiving,

That was long ago but

it is the holding, the waiting

that is sealed tight,

locked down,

this body is bound.

And yet, could it be?

the barest of life

returning to this place.

Is that the stirring of a breeze?

The tip of a blade of grass?

A hint of possibility

in the air?

And so spring creeps slowly

back into this body

one breath at a time.

Making space, allowing

some semblance of

a bud to form.

To emerge fresh and new

from the black soil of

possibility.

The blossoming of

prayers long planted,

of a new way, new life.