Out There

Out there
you'll see it all.
The floating ends
will meet and mend,
and you will be yourself;
your fully-formed,
though always changing,
self of selves.
Every clumsy backward look
will pay for itself.
Every tear you've cried,
or wanted to cry,
will set your broken bones.
The rips in your heart
will no longer
need to be guarded
by steel girders,
banyan trees,
or even rice paper.
Not so much as a
dragonfly's wing
will you need
to cover the bludgeoned place,
to protect the private you
you love so much
and hope to save intact
from what has seemed years
of relentless pummeling.

Go and live and love
in peace, my friend,
for surely there is love
to enfold you,
and life to be feasted upon:
your portion is boundless.
Love will be the more
you've wanted.
You will know it
when you see it.
You will love yourself
as no lover
has ever had the courage
to love;
and the warmth you've wanted
will line your pillowcases,
dance upon your windowsill,
and hide
at the ends of your socks
awaiting your toes.

-Deborah Mears