My heart goes out to those I met in the underworld—
Those passing friends I connected with in darkness.
Some would call them demons,
But I call them brothers–
For indeed, we are all made of the same dust.
The desires of their souls are much like mine;
We breathe the same air;
We share the same insecurities;
Our feelings are fleeting and tender.
How easy it once was for me to write them off as aberrations,
Perverted distortions of a lower plane.
That, of course, was my arrogance,
My own dark illusion of separation.
Now I see them as beautiful,
Despite the crudeness of their words and swagger.
They took me in their arms and I died inside them–
As their swords pierced the cracks of my armor
The deep of my soul was purged and purified;
My body convulsed as I sighed in sweet release.
In the moments that followed I awoke a new man,
And in truth, I looked back in sadness as I walked away.
In some strange manner, their fraternity was comforting to me,
Their admiration and acceptance was–
Dare I say it?
The embodiment of love and grace.
As always, I began convinced I was sent to guide them–
Now I recognize the lesson was for me.
Mine was the soul in need of remediation,
And I cherish the whole frenetic mess.
My prayer is for grace to cover each of them–
Those beautiful souls still dancing in the shadows.
One day, I hope, we’ll see each other again,
Embracing each other in light.
The Underworld
