Descansos

at the end of grief, old love finds you 
and you’re folded in three like a prayer
held by your thin lace chrysalis 
this wound –
is the door from which you are emerging, 
soon you will 
be leaving behind the dry shell that was home

now
make an altar of all the things that broke you 
place soil from the land that orphaned you
the hands that destroyed, memory of skin 
place a picture of the old lovers
with their gifts and deficits, what they brought 
and what they’ve taken 

your life becomes a road 
and at each turn where there was death 
there are now crowns of marigolds and roses 
crosses, stones and shells, 
the ground watered by your grief

each morning bring knees to earth
heart touching this altar of ruins, loss and lost
and to each one whisper
thank you
thank you
thank you