I Will not Shrink

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I will not shrink from that battlefield 
where the heat of longing meets 
the chill of dread, 
where cold steel fingers, 
sharp filaments of fear, 
wrap tight my heart and 
squeeze. 
  
No, I will not. 
  
I will instead, 
fan the fire, 
my Soul’s desire 
to free forever 
the fledgling wings 
that flutter wildly 
beneath my ribs. 
  
Hope is feathered 
but often flightless, 
anchored to earth by 
the gravity of neglect, 
shivering in exile. 
  
But now I warm it 
within that chamber 
where fire meets ice 
where light meets shadow 
and diamonds are formed 
in the press of pain. 
  
In that crucible 
where the alchemy of Soul 
turns lead to gold 
and magic and miracles 
meet the illusion of suffering 
in Divine dissolution- 
the prodigal child 
clasped tight in homecoming. 
  
All soul fragments 
all slivers of myself 
once rejected 
flung far and wide 
into pitiless dark, 
called back to me now, 
full in their flowering 
come laden with learning, 
and bright with blessings.
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