3 Kislev 5777 – Untitled

As I stared into the patterned moonlight on my carpet, I remembered
The promises
The passion
The fights
and the choice I made to walk away.
If miracles are in fact improbable chances
Like the sunrise I watch from the driver’s seat
I am reminded of the impending day
I’ve been aching to leave,
and I now realize:
This is such difficult sacrifice.

There are no guarantees anymore
And I pack these ill-fitting fears away
in the stubborn crevice of a Patagonia duffel bag.

Everything is a miracle.