Poem: The Other Side of the Fire

-

The sense that all
has changed and
yet...

The more the silence speaks
the more I sit
and listen.

The precious sand
in the hourglass
still continue to fall.

More aware of every grain
that blossoms into
a thorn-covered rose.

Details obscured
have now become clear
the chaff just burns away

Spirit distilled
into a potent brew
no longer weak

But what cost
did I have to pay
for this new insight?



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