Grief, that grittiest of sandpapers, rubs her frayed edges raw. Scars assemble, a vortex of baffling borders to rake in pain the more efficiently. And still, she blooms – true grit may render her raw, but it also polishes brass and buffs out blemishes – if she will allow it to.
Grief,
that grittiest
of sandpapers, rubs
her frayed edges raw. Scars
assemble, a vortex of baffling borders
to rake in pain the more efficiently. And still,
she blooms – true grit may render her raw, but it also
polishes brass and buffs out blemishes – if she will allow it to.
Too bad it has to be that way.
And yet, some of our best learning takes place in that ‘school of hard knocks’. I often think I would choose another course load, but I don’t get that choice – so on we go, doing the best we can with what we are given!
Gorgeous photo–and true grit, I’ve some of that.
I imagine that you do!! 🙂
And – despite all of that – she’s beautiful!
Isn’t that a great life lesson???
Definitely!
beautiful, Melody!
Thanks Heidi! 🙂
So great, so true.
Thank you! 🙂
Beautifully written, and oh so true!
Thanks you Denise!
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 
What are your thoughts?