I knew you
before time and malice had refreshed the grief
personalized the injustice, the bigotry, the lies
when your stride, so self-assured from all you had already survived
stumbled and tripped …
I knew you
when the world was a horror
(it was for me too, watching in disbelief)
no way out but through a wilderness
foggy with viciousness and unseen craggy cliffs
I saw you alone, asking for help
reaching out, admonished and slapped
I saw you break …
and I marveled as you healed.
Prima cogitatione mane
Ultima orationis noctis
bookending your days, though you knew it not.
I know you
your imperfect soul broken by ruthless hands
is more beautiful now in the healing
a golden kintsugi no-one could have foreseen
durable and strong once again.
I know you again
the same, but not
handsome, but more beautiful
resilient, but more kind
a deeper you, more whole for the breaks
Who would have thought it could be so?
