Everyday a new dig

Every day , every breath, a new dig;

Mining, mining for that final, freeing forgiveness.

Ah , but it is sticky...that penance you’ve been paying. It is glued to the walls of your ribs; fastening bones now. Aging.

Palms up, my darling.

Stand up, my darling.

The balm is coming.

It is ripening your words, unfurling your closed fists, and making pliable, solvent, those bars; the cage around the love you’ve been holding hostage.

Let it out now.

Then let it in.


And then set it free, boundless.

It is time for your next beginning.