Like vinegar of
Expectant grapes
The heart draws inward
To the quiet chambers
Of transformation
Waiting in darkness
For resurrection
By the thirst
Of its own juices
Spilled by life’s sacred accident,
With a now growing
That comes with enduring
Grief’s deliverance
From bitter days
Waiting to ripen
Elegantly sour
Painfully sweet
And wisely aged,
Strangely blessed
Ready again
To taste the world

– Jack Adam Weber

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