Living at the edges of rupture

I find solidity in the movement of roots

Wrangling up my legs and wrapping around my waist

The truth held steady in the nest between my lungs

Beating like wings spanning beyond this life

I reach through limbic estuaries

Casting shadows along the entropy and chaos of memory

I reach to the limits of this tangled landscape

My body holds the history as a map

Disparate narratives, oscillations, aerial parts, and unrevealed roots

Fault lines

That were never my fault

Now I am standing clear in the abstractions, attachments, and complexities

I am fragmentary and whole at once

I am tender heart and jagged hand

I am a bird, and a stone, and a fragile bone

And I am here to listen

And love this child I have always been

To hear the torrent in my chest as a song I must sing

As a bright thing I have to offer to the space between

And as the sun seeps through the branches

I believe in the breakage as an opening, as a beginning

I believe there is a way through

I believe I can learn to trust again and again and again and again and again