Disconnected

time heals all wounds (so they say)
though this is not true for all
     you know that now
it’s vital you don’t yield, to
ennui and despair,
     a fine line,
encumbered by the shackles of the past,
your resolve ensconced in
     your core, as
you feel it expanding
the spiritual rebirth
     resonating in your haunted soul
lifting you into an abyssal calm
its appeasing nature, pure bliss --
     single fleeting thought crossing your mind
while you steady your heartbeat
like a musician
     keeping the rhythm with a metronome
at your own pace
awoken from the state of stupor
     obedient stagnation of body and soul
healing it, a piecemeal bloom
you are still and always shall be
     fractured, a child of war, like
Kintsugi artwork, pieces
held together by the golden strings of
     your inner strength, your heritage
your fractured heart, and
stubbornness
     making you almost garlanded
tenaciously shining,
every sliver of your being
     jogging your memory,
rousing recollection of who you ARE, so
you don’t get disconnected again…

     (temporary lapse you forgive yourself, too)