We are all subject to the cycles of light and life. The greats all say pretty much the same thing about this… â€˜It has to hurt if itâ€™s to healâ€™, â€˜Itâ€™ll get darker before it gets lighterâ€™, â€˜To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven…â€™
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 havenâ€™t confessed
that Iâ€™ve married my pain – that my heart is undressed…
Youâ€™re gone, but Iâ€™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 youâ€™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.