contradiction, sorrow, and vulnerability,
a trine labeled as all mine,
yet, this triumvirate, well know & shared,
but more and moreover,
set aside if/when well dared

this comatose trilogy that so oft astrides,
when the beacon moon stands us up
with white lightening,

after hope  has washed away,
out to the sea deep of
crusty sleep,
newer versions of older stories uncovered,
re-revealed,
warmth, golden light and
hope above hope,
in the weakened human heart are,
must be,
unsealed...

a lovely one, a rising one, a revelatory,
a poem releasing secrets,
we can all, with time, all of us,
be healed...


1:40 am
nyc
one new day,
today