We do not turn on the light
and the warm fire of enlightment
by imagining figures made of light

rather

we do it through actions
through awareness
through making the darkness conscious

[1]

˜˜

When you feel like screaming
and no sound comes out

and this makes you want to punch the wall
but our little fine fists can’t do anything

and this makes you fall on your knees to scratch it,
only to have your nails broken and your fingers bleeding

when you take your hands to your facey
covering it with your bleeding hands

falling on the floor
because it is the only thing you can do

It is in what we have inside
always there, always being there

Timeless, endless
well of resurrection

The holy love
I carry inside

[2]

~~

Every silent wound
is a step leading to the mansion
of Lady Cold Death

Every shared and chanted smile
is a step in the opposite direction
where nothing is certain

fragile and beautiful
precious, unknown, new
every day, forever

[3]