Compass, Broken.

How are you?

Sweet being of sky and sound,

how do you fare in your time of loss?

I know this will not be the end for you,

because it simply is not written that way.


I cannot proclaim to know much beyond that, but

I can tell you of the winds you will feel,

how they will reteach you the ways of sunlit exhalations,

the path of self, following it to the horizon, bending

warping, evermore.


You knew harsh change would come and yet

we fail to accept it will ever truly come.

Your heart was not ready

and yet it has to be.


As an entire half of you falls away

burning the edges of you with its

careless and careful claws

it will pave the way for new soil

new leaves

triumphs and higher branches still.


Even the most lifeless of stones

can be seen and felt

far beneath the rivers of time.

You too will sink,


and flow out into the lake

you’ve always wanted to visit

though you never knew it there.


Fear is allowed.


You will drown and burn and drown again,

but hey–

who ever said the sun

has never known night?






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