The Purification

For a long time
I was afraid

to be without desires.

After all, who would I be?

Who would I be

without my exquisite taste,

my opinions for and against?

A dying butterfly

drying in the sun;

Un-pin me

or turn up the flame.

In the end

I will be purified

by a new joy

hidden all along
within
a familiar grief.

Peter Valentyne

June 2010