- Glue, tikkun (white-pebble.net)
An old story says that when God first let his light shine in the chaos of the new universe, the universe shattered wherever the light came in. And so we live in a shattered world and life is a constant effort to glue the pieces of the world back together.
But it’s by dealing with the cracks that I grow. I learn from my failures in everything from studying math to learning again and again how to be a mother — this time, how to be a mother to a young man who has now a wife and home of his own.
- Shattered (lmk1009.wordpress.com)
A mirror, broken on the floor.
Rather, ripped from my hands
And thrown onto the cold, hard, ground,
Shattered and stepped on.
Such was my world
The day the news came.
- For Freedom (danettefrazier.wordpress.com)
She smiles and jokes and tilts her head to the side But inside she hurts; she’s dying inside She serves others with fervor in hurried fever But she’s wearing thin and none really see her The freedom of others offends her at her core Because inside she hungry and craving still more Her worship is quick; her worship is cold She’s busy, so tired, and…
- That Box (mythoughtsoverload.wordpress.com)
I woke up realizing that there’s a small cut on my finger. Most probably it was cut by one of the shattered glasses when I was picking out the stars yesterday. Is it a reminder for myself that the past and the future does not belong together?
- Shattered (rycallaghan.wordpress.com)
It’s like you’ve crawled under my skin and made a home for yourself.
Lurking in some dark corner of my body.
Letting me think I’m healing, that I’m getting stronger.
Emerging when I’m most vulnerable, and least expecting it.
I found a piece of me yesterday
It was my smile
I haven’t seen it for a while since you shattered all of me
I’ve missed that piece of me
Each time I find bits of a missing piece
I get so excited I want to show you
Something you used to see as beautiful and valuable
I hold it out with both my hands open for you to see
With cold eyes you break it again
My hands fall beside me
And I look at the pieces on the floor
Blurry from the tears welling up
You turn your back and walk away
I stand there watching you leave
And collect the pieces from the floor in my arms
It’s OK, I’ll glue them together again and find more broken pieces
But next time I won’t bring them to you.
2 responses to “Pieces”
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