Blue mountains after rainfall
but not the blue you knew before

No, deeper now
as if the sky wept
onto their bones
and they drank it in
with silent joy

Much bluer
like bruises healed from within
like prayers whispered
through thunder

Was it the rain
that made them honest?

Or the stillness that followed
so wide it swallowed
even doubt?

This is how the soul returns:
not untouched
but truer
soaked in something
you can’t quite name
only feel
when the mist lifts
and everything
is
more