Souls reconstructed with faith transform agony into peace.

The death of a dream can in fact serve as the vehicle that endows it with new form, with reinvigorated substance, a fresh flow of ideas, and splendidly revitalized color. In short, the power of a certain kind of dream is such that death need not indicate finality at all but rather signify a metaphysical and metaphorical leap forward.

Love taught me to die with dignity that I might come forth anew in splendor. Born once of flesh, then again of fire, I was reborn a third time to the sound of my name humming haikus in heaven’s mouth.

With my ninth mind I resurrect my first
and dance slow to the music of my soul made new.

Hearts rebuilt from hope resurrect dreams killed by hate.

Hope drowned in shadows
emerges fiercely splendid––
boldly angelic.