We are all subject to the cycles of light and life. The greats all say pretty much the same thing about this… ‘It has to hurt if it’s to heal’, ‘It’ll get darker before it gets lighter’, ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…’
With every fiber of my being, I get it. I feel next to normal these days, but that isn’t to say it came easy.
So many broken things are so beautiful…
I can only hope that applies to us as well.
Broken bent tired confused
Listless and gutless and buried and bruised;
I ache and I cry but I haven’t confessed
that I’ve married my pain – that my heart is undressed…
You’re gone, but I’m standing here waiting to see
if some odd miracle will bring you to me-
for a moment,
for a second,
on a breeze.
My heads swims, my heart heart swells;
I am soaked by the waves
of the life that you’ve left moving
through what’s left of my days.
On the edge of this ocean,
feet buried in sand,
I will listen to hear you-
my heart in my hand.