It’s indigo deep with crimson edged promise,
dusked edges steeped in longing, belonging
to no distant star. I ask questions of wayward
clouds; they know essential {breathing} things
but do not share. I stare at a fat moon rising,
a bubbled laugh waiting to be burst and held,
a giggle gurgling in my throat; shallow-swallowed
song of promise. We keep our secrets deep, our
scars cut deeper. We show them, and they shine and
all the world knows {shows} that broken is beautiful.
Prompted by Poetic Asides.
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No room for anger in a beautiful sky. I love that fat moon holding a bubbled laugh.
Wow this is great. You could shave emotion from a stone
“broken is beautiful”
Wow! I have been hearing this over and over everywhere I turn.
Do you know Jon Foreman?
He wrote: “. . . through these times in the dark I’m beginning to realize that ‘living it well’ means something bigger than just pretending: pretending that everything is OK, pretending that I have all the answers. That living well begins by acknowledging the wound. After all, the dark wounds of our world are inescapable- the wound is you, it’s me, it’s humanity. The wound is Afghanistan, it’s Palestine, it’s the United States. The wound is our broken homes, our broken marriages, our broken hearts. The wound is Golgotha, the wound is the cross. But rather than running away, let’s embrace the truth about our broken humanity, and the truth will set us free! Let’s not pretend to be well- after all, it’s the sick that need a doctor. No, we are the wounded. Mortally wounded. Darkly wounded. Do we really believe in a Living God who is our redeemer, strong and loving- capable of healing these wounds? If so, then let’s bring our darkness to him. All of it. Life is short, I want to live it well.
The wound is WHERE THE LIGHT SHINES THROUGH.”
(Sorry that is so long. I didn’t know what to cut, so I left it whole.)
You are singing the anthem of God’s heart in such a beautiful way. And I am beginning to hear the song.
Thank you!
Gorgeous! Every line has exquisite imagery.