You could be folding your laundry
Twelve hundred miles from the place you were born
You could look up into the sweet and forgiving autumn sunlight
And you realize all at once - you have carried your scars this far
Because you love them; the world touches you that way and it
Hurts so much that you just smile and you lay down, you lay down
Without a fight

~from "Rapture" by Peter Mulvey