Mother Teresa’s Secret.

No one ever told me 

that the other side of the paradox

would feel so much 
like liberty.

It feels like honey, 

sweeting the most bitter corners

of a tired soul,

or hot tea 
warming the frozen edges 

of a numbed frame.

It feels like dancing
in the pelting rain

when you’ve been waiting years

for the storm to stop. 

My broken heart
has just learned 
to beat again,

as she steadily starts

to breathe again
these big, deep breaths of air

fresher than I dared believe exist

in the pluming smoke of loss.

You were right, Momma T.

because I loved until it hurt,

and now?

There’s no more pain;

just love. 

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