A storm comes up,
so strong that it pushes
my outside deep inside me.
At first I resist,
but exhausted I surrender.
I close my eyes
and look to the other side.
The narrowness that crushed me
dissolves into endless vastness.
The exile becomes a probation,
because where I am now
I do not want to stay,
but I must stay here
where I have never been.
For here is what remains of me.
The idea of who I am
is centered in who
I wish to become
and it guides me the way
back to the outside.