Of what used to be
Sorting through the pages
Of misplaced memory
Moving slowly forward
To an unfamiliar place
The past a healing wound
A scar left as a trace
Picking up the pieces
But forming something new
As remnants of the old
Let genesis imbue
A metamorphic present
From past to future being
Transformed from hurt to promise
No longer bound, but freeing
Picking up the pieces
Awaiting hunger's breath
Building room for friendship
While mourning past days death
Though history hangs suspended
Permeating doubt
Hope seeps in with promise
A seed that soon will sprout
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