The Rememberings

At the time, it seemed too much.
The cuts were raw to the touch.

My heart was full, before its breaking.
Seems that I, had been forsaken.

In that hurt, when fate seemed sealed,
Something else would be revealed.

I could not leave, could not go on,
There was no way, to become gone.

This caused a shift, in my course,
I embraced pain, at its source.

Not for a whim, not for a trial,
But for it seemed, to be worthwhile.

For every trial, was a thread.
A living cloth, ‘pon which I’d tread.

The place that I, was needed most,
Was cold and dark and pain engrossed.

In that pain, beneath my plea,
I viewed it all quite openly.

And not a rock then went unturned,
And not a part then went unburned.

I was battered, what a view.
I started fresh, started anew.

Had more questions, found more answers.
Along with far more second chances.

With a smile, with a sift,
I found the pain to be a gift.