Dancing with Light

Today I clean the room where my soul resides.

I sweep the floor and draw the curtains,

Wash the windows and wipe the table.

There is, in the room of my soul

A shadow in the corner,

Where the light comes to hide.

In that little dark hole.

I bring it to the light.

It has tiny hooks under my skin

Small, strong, and tight.

I cannot break it with all my might.

The spot says “my-self” and

Each tentacled hook proclaims its name.

Self-pity says one,

then doubt, fear, and pain.

Others mourn sorrow, anger, and resentment;

They churn and feed one another in turn.

I squeeze and squash that dark corner

smaller and even smaller.

Until I see in my hand,

a tiny grain of black sand.

I inhale the sun,

the fragrant air.

One gentle puff is enough.

Gone is the speck in my hand.

Where once it was dark

a tiny bright spark

invites me to dance.