I turned to her as if closing the last chapter of a book.

No more pages.


My eyes were red, burning not of rage,
But of hurt, and pain, and tears…

Dull ache, understanding this relationship
Was at its end.

And this finality tore at my very soul.

Wounded now defines my world
And prescribes my tomorrow…
Lost not in way…
Lost in heart.

But then a glimmer of hope
Came to clear my confusion
And began to heal my hurt.

I understood that
Brokenness touches all of us
At some point.

But in the moment of storm…
We must look through the darkening clouds
To see more…

See more than the darkness of the moment.

Look for the hidden goodness in the troubles,
Feel not those darkening​ clouds
Foreshadowing night…
Touch, rather, a palette of color,
As the twilight of this time
Paints a glorious sunset.

Open your heart…to this.

Today is not the owner of tomorrow.

Boundaries are not set by the singular pain of this moment.

Think of this…

Accept this…

The ache, smothering… suffocating,
Will not write…
Does not foretell…
Our tomorrow.

There is impermanence to our hurt.

Our anguish
Will not last.

It does not prevail.

Listen to,
And trust your wounded heart
Whispering a new dawn…

Accept not a deeper grief
But await, and hunger for
The new day.

Accept the now…only as now.

Live, love, accept…

A different tomorrow.


© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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