For now, for now
The torrent is dammed.
The river races another channel
than the path down my face,
winding now in hidden caverns
in the echoing dark of my soul.
The raging, stormy waters that pooled
at my feet
and washed the black from my eyes—
Torn in anguished sobs and bitter pain
of yet-willing surrender—
This heaving flood has entered
a wider plain.
The fight shallows, the struggle calms
at the entrance to a broad
green.
This river never dries, never ends, and
there are still tears that will well
Washing out the traces of pain, of
sorrow, gently carrying the broken
pieces of the toppled edifice
to a foreign god.
When at last they are washed away,
The final tears will bring balm
and healing, until only a place of
tender strength remains to mark the place
of the great battle and the great storm.
There are still tears to be cried
Gently welling, gently spilling
sometimes still in a burst of stinging pain.
For now, tho, for now,
The torrent is dammed.