Twenty-six nights passed since the triplicity:
A display of light in the dark surrounding me.
I couldn’t see then: not one bolt, but three.
One strike. A light.
Strike twice. Ignite.
Third strike. Insight.
One.
A storm rips through in silence.
Sudden yet slow, there are no sirens,
Only feeling strange, electric, nervous.
It tears pieces away beneath the surface.
Jolting and disappearing,
Bright and fleeting,
Trying to show me
Strange recognition,
A glimpse of clarity
Like premonition.
When storms strike in the night,
Sometimes lightning brings no light.
Clarity comes in peculiar waves,
Remembrance of the lightning’s veins.
High winds, destruction, debris.
A lesson within each lost piece.
Each one torn away, ripped,
Or stolen from a loosened grip.
Each one sacrificed to preserve peace,
Fallen from self like dead autumn leaves
Until nothing is left but love for the storm.
From the storm’s hunger, another is born.
Rule 1: Meet the storm’s ever-shifting needs.
Rule 2: Give of yourself. Each fragment feeds.
Rule 3: Commit your life. Don’t dare ever flee.
Each loss left me silent, alone, reserved.
What pieces, if any, did I preserve?
My compassion, dangerous empathy.
My love for the storm that shattered me.
What on earth did I receive in return?
Nothing at all that I didn’t earn.
A love that controls and consumes.
An infection from poisonous fumes.
But also a lesson I continue to learn:
Remember, rather than lovingly yearn.
This storm is harsh, chaotic, but calculated.
I fell for the storm. I’ve always been fragmented.
Two.
Remnants.
In remembrance.
Of the moments the shards came unglued,
When truth was distorted, misconstrued.
When parts were chipped and swept away,
Carried to rest in an unknown grave.
Those moments always started softly,
In a loving, comforting embrace
The storm held my naked body.
Clouds diffusing sunlight,
A beautiful, setting glow
Softly lit the moment,
Touching bareness I let show.
To the storm, I whispered my fear.
A moment of trust, honesty.
A part of my mosaic to share.
The storm held me to my feet,
Wrapped me in love and affirmation.
It was comfort curling around me,
All I’d needed. Honest revelation.
Secure, honest, open, naked.
Whole, accepted, validated.
The storm remembers the truths we tell.
Surrendered in embrace, then night fell.
Its love then suddenly transformed,
Scrapes and cuts against naked form.
Ripped from my body with biting winds,
Swift but rough on my exposed skin.
Booms crashed from every direction.
Jabs, gashes, slashes to all I’d become.
Enemy of the storm? But what had I done?
Cold, anxious, all I could do was wonder.
The storm responded with loud shouts of thunder.
Bellows of hatred, adding insult to injury.
Worthlessness screamed at my vulnerability.
Unless fire sparks and blinds with ashes,
Its movement is visible only in flashes.
Through the debris, the storm had a face.
Ever-shifting, each one carved in rage.
Protection. Shelter. Dignity. Clothes.
Hold it together now. Weakness erodes.
…
The true revelation in what the lightning showed:
The fear I’d whispered was being harmed while exposed.
Three.
In the loss of my pieces, I’ve faced some perplexion.
The pieces, though torn, are most precious possessions.
So now I vow both a promise and confession:
For every promise the storm chose to break,
For each piece that the storm chose to take,
I promise those pieces: I’ll find you again.
I’ll clean and polish you with my own hands.
Love myself and all my complexities
More than I loved unstable security.
There’s a churning
Somewhere inside of me
From an authentic piece
In some place deep.
My winds are high, strong, and ready,
Whipping, surrounding, protecting.
Lighting up, clarity despite tension.
A storm, but not of endless consumption.
This storm seeks with volition:
Wholeness. Integration.
Justice. Reclamation.
I reject the rules that were forced on me.
Instead, I’ve created my own triplicity:
Standards for love to be open and free.
Mutual respect: the absolute foundation.
Freedom: is free, and no one can take it.
Consuming another: forbidden devastation.
All are worthy of love. All parts of the mosaic.