The Rapture

and Gardenias

Alone on an airplane,
going home.

An unexpected place
for the Rapture.

I didn’t realize
it was an inside job.

Chaos and Ecstasy
wed in me.

I had been so vigilant
to keep them apart.

Turns out
they were made for each other.

Fear didn’t stand
a chance.

The destruction that followed
was complete.

Earthly anchors—identity—
shed.

Precious being
lost in the fire.

Marble Sculpture of the rapture of the Sabina, Florence

I awoke dreaming
of Gardenias.

Unfamiliar with their
meaning.

I have always been
a Wild Pink Rose.

Gardenia—
white evergreen,
fragrant with innocence,
trust, and secret admiration.

Worn in weddings—
Joy. Harmony. Renewal.

Gardenia jasminoides flower with green leaves in nature garden

Innocence cannot be
burned away.

Spiritual light
shines brightest in death.

Yet I am still here—
feet on Earth,

memory of heaven
in my chest.

Belly heavy. 
Weary.
I cannot tell
what remains.

Is this how
the new world
is born?