i heard a song i used to sing

back when living on knife’s

edge, never knowing 

one minute to the next

if peace or cyclone 

would billow ‘round.

~~

the melody speaks hope 

of shelter safe even 

within the tempest, 

and i would belt this loud

back then in faith that 

joy in morning comes.

~~

and i paused and let tears

come, grateful. incredibly,

astonishingly so, because i

never knew back then just

how far i would leave that 

space, how wide the chasm

would become, how much

healing i would gain.

~~

and how fragrant fresh 

life would now be. and 

I am humbled by grace 

and its power to recreate, 

and that it was gifted me.

~~

©Heather Pound 2022

image:Barnabas Hertelendy/Unsplash