After

Every strand of hair is unafraid,
exhausted and content.
On the surface that is what that was,
a disturbance of the peace,
a fear settling upon my spirit,  
a violent song in a prayer room.  
On the surface it was an unswimmable sea,
a wasp caught in my bare cupped hands,
it was a boxing ring in the chest and head.
On the surface it caused many things,
on the inside quite a list of others,  
but every strand of hair now
is unafraid, exhausted and content
in the wake of it.