The Dark Days of Awakening (Poem)

On the 1st day I was completely lost.
                I had no idea which direction to turn.

On the 2nd day I felt sadness.
                A form of undying need or yearn.

On the 3rd day I reflected.
                I had been playing victim in life.

On the 4th day I reflected on reflecting.
                I’d been creating my very own strife.

On the 5th day I saw my flawed conceptions.
                Are these beliefs really mine?

On the 6th day I tried re-arranging them.
                But they all still looked like grime.

On the 7th day I felt trapped.
                What was I supposed to believe?

On the 8th day I felt hopeless.
                As if the Universe had forgotten me.

On the 9th day I felt broken.
                Sadness shattering my psyche.

On the 10th day my heart wept.
                The tears now streamed silently.

On the 11th day I regained stasis.
                My chemistry had changed.

On the 12th day I became free.
                I’m no longer pointing blame.

On the 13th day I awakened.
                With much to be learned, even still.


I actually wrote this poem on day 11th of my transition. But I felt confident that by the time I placed my head on my pillow the night of day 12, I would be free of pointing blame at those around me. And today, as I post it, I will be more fully awakened when I lay my head down to sleep tonight. This awakened sleep will be incredibly recharging for my soul. More peace is expressing itself through me. I am in complete control though I am simultaneously surrendering to the Universe’s flow.

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