Pain Is A Gift

For this pain is a gift.
Though I prayed for it to lift.

From my being from my truth.
Didn’t know what else to do.

At that time, it seemed too much.
My wounds were raw to the touch.

Heart’s full, but then a breaking.
Seems I had been forsaken.

In that pain, fate all but sealed,
Something vast would be revealed.

No escaping, no way on,
No way for it to be gone.

And that shifting of my course,
Embraced the pain at the source.

Not for naught, not for the trial.
But because it was worthwhile.

For each trial was but a thread.
A living cloth ‘pon which we tread.

Place that I was needed most.
Was the darkest, pain engrossed.

Surrounded in those nights so bleak.
Surrendered to it, let it speak.

In that pain, in that hoping,
Every way seemed to open.

Not a rock that went unturned,
Not a part that didn’t burn.

A battered self, what a view.
Started fresh, started new.

The vastness and the wonder.
The pain still strikes like thunder.

With more questions come more answers.
These infinite second chances.

With a smile, with a sift,
For this pain is a gift.