Out Of The Ash Poem by Stacie Brethauer

For me the memory lingers
the residue remains
and as much as I
wash
and scrub
and scour
I'm forever marred
by moments
that crept
into my heart
when I wasn't vigilant.

It's a cinder box of
pain
sorrow
loneliness
rejection.

an ash heap that
I carry
in a tin box
etched with flowers
and skeletons
and terror
and the hallow sounds of night
the guttural groans of grief
and silent tears no one sees

I carry them
mausoleumed
remembered
memorialized
until they come to their
final resting place
to be entombed
in the Heart of all hearts

then out of the ash heap
in my tin box
He brings
glory.