Resurgo

The wind howls through shadowed ruins, claiming Everything.

A deep, old ache - A history I carry, or Might.

I watch the clouds move, knowing the sky will always Be.

My former self, a flicker in the distance, softly Burning.

My calloused hands remember the feeling of the damp earth, But.

Something in the quiet settles, a root - it is only I.

My body, a resilient flower, will one day sprout Too.

The sun, even veiled, promises softly that it Will.
I will rise, softly bending to the curvature of the earth as I Survive.

Quiet healing, burrowing deeper than scars, will always be This.