A depth of furrowed rubble
strewn directly from our losses,
gardened deep in trenches harrowed
by the heartache, oblate darkness.
Forget and sleep, release, go deep
This time for undoing?
No promises to keep.
What is rid of and done goes back into the dark
of infinite unbecoming,
removed from the spark.
And all things must go there, all that which is made,
All creation and form,
All weaves now defrayed.
What is left once the darkness has taken its toll?
Nothing within nothing:
All that is light and always was whole.
Nothing is lost that is not bespoken.
Now you renew,
inviting rebirth of the light,
amidst all that’s awoken.
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