I'm waiting to
surface
safe
and unafraid
a Lazarus arising
from a tomb
of self-negations.
Will daylight
shorten
the shadow
of self doubt
that announces me
before I'm present?
Will I look stronger in Spring
And bigger in Winter?
Can Summer hide my pallor?
Can Autumn satiate my hunger?
Is there a season when shadows disappear?
Your poem is so intense, I will spend much of the next few hours processing. The last stanza and the last line blew me away .....
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