Thursday, 23 April 2015

Cracks





I see you.
I see me.
Cracks running through our fragile hearts.
Sore places too tender to touch.
Walls too well defended to breach.
Hurts too well hidden to reach.


I see you.
I see me.
Cracks that will exist until they're accepted in us.
Sore places that will resist but the gentlest touch.
Walls that might melt if we're patient enough.
Hurts that may heal if given time, and love.


I see you.
I see me.
And the only way through, what defeats us,
is to love what is hardest to love.
To see with sympathy the unlovely parts.
To understand what is unconditional commitment.


That in the end it is the mortar and glue,
to our cracks, which with each hurt, expand and contract.
And might tear us apart, if not for love;
which in its magic unconditional touch,
loves in us,
what is ugliest.


Ana Lisa de Jong
April 2015


Mangawhai Heads, Northland, New Zealand


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