Falling out of the morning’s rhythm

With a childhood of burdens  

Tied around my waist  

As it screams to its demise

–

My limbs go slack

During the steep decline,

As a healing mantra blooms

Over the desert swathe within me

–

Falling out of the noise

Into a nourishing silence,

The heavy past slides away

And blasts apart upon impact

–

I meet the ground feather light

Within the maze of it ruins,

Sifting through the heavy shards

For a fable or a blessing