The Descent

I thought that the descent

was akin to death.

An excruciating disintegration

from which I’d never return.

I’d assumed I’d dissolve

when taken down below.

Instead, the depths offered me

elation and bliss.

Not in the beginning, however.

Not for a very long time, in fact.

For a while the void assailed me

with anguish and despair.

Certain that this was my undoing

I allowed it to gut me.

Eviscerate me,

leaving me splayed and raw.

But here I am ascending,

exhumed from the deep.

Transforming the dross

into fertile ground.

I’ve long since ceased

to revile the descent.

I know it is a fecund gift

given by the hands of change.