Tuesday, January 21, 2014

January the twenty-first.

Hi, lovely.

I hope that today is bright for you.
And if it is not, I hope that it is at least filled with rains that wash deep
Cleansing, healing, whole.

I feel like a majority of the world is grasping at straws.
Especially on days like today.
I must apologize for my scattered words
But no matter how hard I try and focus I just keep going back.
Have you ever had your heart broken?

You see, the movies... they all tell you that love is great.
They tell you love is beautiful.
They say it will heal your brokenness.
And I guess a piece of that is true.

But what they don't tell you is that love hurts.
It hurts because it matters.
It cuts deep, exposes raw, bleeding places.
It opens up parts of you that you've kept guarded your entire life.
That's what love does.

We portray her as a lovely brunette
Wrapped tight in scarlet, sipping coffee in the quaintest of coffee shops
But my dear, that isn't love at all.
That's hope. You should really visit her.
She is lovely. She has important things to say.
But that is for another poem.

Oh, Love.
Love is the girl who seems a little crazy at first.
The girl who jumps off of rooftops and hangs from trees.
Love is the girl who goes to hospitals and the girl who talks for hours on end.
That's love.

Love is the girl who cries because it's just too much right now
And the girl who sees the brokenness and feels it deep
Sees and feels all as one deep aching motion.
Inhale, exhale.

Love is kindness without the jewelry, formality.
Love is beauty in the messiest of pieces.
Love is seeing not shattered glass but mosaic pieces.
Love is taking the time, accepting the cuts
Gluing the pieces together to make a new masterpiece.
That's love.

And we choose her. She wins.
Over and over and over. She wins.
We can try to turn our backs and we can close ourselves off
But trust me, my dear, she wins.
She cups her hands and catches the tears
She wins.

You can try to choose loneliness.
The girl with the long grey dress, standing off to the side of the party.
You can say you're 'better off doing things by yourself'
But, sweet, you can't fool her. Not Love.
See, she knows. And she doesn't let loneliness stay.

Love looks at you and sees not missing pieces
Love sees windows
Places where the light comes in.
Love sees the mosaic in process and hugs you close
Hang on, dear, hang on because it's going to be beautiful
Just give her time. She'll heal you.

Trust her. When she tells you to give her away, trust her.
I know you want to hold her close, I do.
It's hard because when you experience her
You want her to stay with you forever
But, darling, you have to let her go.
She'll come back. Just trust her.

So let the love go.
Sometimes, that means letting the heart break
Over and over and over again, my dear
Because you have to keep breaking it until it opens.
Open. Make space for the sunshine.
Make friends with the hope wrapped in scarlet.

Trust her, sweet heart. Trust Love.
Let her fill and empty you.
Embrace her. Even when it hurts and seems like
She's making the wrong decision over and over and it hurts.
When you think that it loneliness is much better company
When Hope seems to be on vacation
When you've just had enough
Trust Love. Get to know her.
I promise, you won't regret it.


1 comment:

  1. Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all--and sweetest-in the Gale-is heard- and sore must be the storm-that could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm--I've jeard it in the chillest land--and on the strangest Sea-Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a thing of me-- point B