My wise friend said, the fundamental paradox is,
God Is, and God is not.
I am pupating,
and these are the last twitches of an insect, its wings pulled off.
I am ruminating, and wallowing in my misery
and I am mourning, working through my hurts.
I realise I have chosen here,
the final refuge of the failed control freak,
control of my living room
And I am celebrating my gifts, my courage and my choices.
I am cursing my stupidity, and celebrating my learning.
I am stripping away my illusions to see more clearly
and foregoing the need to Understand what I see.
Everything is beautiful.
Everything is alright. And
I am afraid.
I have always needed to be a Good person.
In foregoing that demand
I become one.