to hear the gods speak again

in the lingering wind after a storm

is a gentle taste of mercy

blooming with incandescent flame

troubled by little more than shadows

of a past reaching for glory

and it has found me

betwixt the healing and the pain

in spite of my cowering breath

though I have died on battlefields
I have yet to deserve
I stand here resurrected! 

the light of hope has summoned me

and I am but a corpse marching

in my former self

thanking the soil I walk upon

for every step I take

there are a few moments I’m thankful for:

walking through the fire; wounded yet strong

afloat in an endless sea; yet not sinking

a lungful of breath in a vacuum of grief

three ways to justify the very next beat

of my heart