The Shift

The inky depths, hidden from plain eye

Well am I acquainted

And well do I know the dangers

Of bathing in the stain

Yet heedless I plummet into that blackness

Shedding

My glasses first—with them I would see, acknowledge

Clothes come after—lest some part remain untouched

Then slowly—anxiously, quickly—plunge

Till I am enclosed entirely

A pinprick of light—an echo of a thought

Surely nothing can cleanse the permanent

But then: a hand, a voice, a rope

Breaches the endless night

Love, light: inexplicable

Filled I am unburdened—the chains of murkiness release

Sprinkling, Dripping, Pouring—the pitch slides away

Transformed, enraptured, still clinging

To the hand that heralds salvation

Impossible becomes possible

Obsidian transmutes into snow

Liberated through sacrifice—accepted through rejection

Life—attained by blood, pain, death

Spurned by all so that I am redeemed