In between the agony

In between the agony
lies a blessing I can't see
but it pulses like a thing alive
waiting to be believed.

But blessings are like confetti
not able to withstand
the slightest breath of disregard
for their manner of being
and they hover momentarily
before simply flying away.

And so I know to wait;
blessings come dressed in disguise
but already I can feel between
the trappings of sheer agony
an unformed blessing embryo
waiting to be born
and yet, and yet, blessings must wait
for I too am dressed in disguise.

To clear the mind of agony
no easy task and yet must be
before the blessing can appear
and stand in its own worth
before the one who feels
but cannot know the shape and form
of what not yet is born!