“There’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in” Leonard Cohen

Her spirit lies fallow—
a barren plot of parched ground,

an abandoned lot hemmed in by walls
that feed her darkness. In the shadows

a flute begins to play. Notes flicker and fade
like fragments of ancient music—familiar,

though she’s never heard it before.
She senses movement,

a shift in the flow of air,
a trail of warmth along her wounds.

The music strengthens, seeps
into inner crevices, teases out

strands of her forgotten song.
Notes shape themselves

into droplets of water, form a trickle,
grow into rivulets that run

through thirsty cracks. They find
those seeds of wholeness hidden within,

soften them until they split,
sending green shoots skyward.

Her spirit leafs out,
breathing in the light.

— Melissa Huff

Published May 2021 by Blue Heron Review.
This poem was written in response to a painting by Tania Blanco, “Healer of the Soul”.