X. The Unveiling
When Hidden Becomes Whole
The masks fall softly, one by one,
like petals loosed when bloom is done.
No thunder breaks, no lightning rends,
just quiet air where silence bends.
Beneath each veil, a face appears,
not strange, not false, but shaped by years.
The shadow-self, the hidden flame,
steps forward now and speaks my name.
No longer must I split in two,
the seen, the secret—both are true.
What I have buried, what I’ve worn,
becomes the marrow, not the scorn.
And nature sings, the whole is more—
mask and marrow, root and core.
The unveiled self is not disguise,
but night and dawn in one sunrise.
So let the veils fall where they may—
I am the dark, I am the day.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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My New Book is Finally Here
My poetry collection Beautiful and Brutal Things is done. It's actually done and finally published over 270 pages. Over a year of my life went into this book. More than a year, really. Long days at my computer, sometimes seven days a week because I couldn't stop even when I probably should have. Then two months of editing that felt harder than the writing itself. But it's finished, and I'm still standing, and the book is real.
By Tim Carmichaela day ago in BookClub
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