At first it felt like a bitter pill,
A rubber band stretched until it snapped,
Sitting cross-legged on the floor,
Looking at my empty hands,
Wondering what would become of me,
Now that there is nothing else
But surrender.

First we fold in,
And then we open out.
Acceptance is a kind of ending
And yet, it is the point of arrival.

This is where I lay down
What can no longer be carried.
This is when I see my hands
Which at first felt so empty
Are filled with
Hallelujah.