If my embrace could stop your bleed,
or smoothing brow make pain recede,
my love would ride, a great white steed,
to mend your bleeding heart.
But my heart bleeds, my soul is bent,
my broken parts sing like lament,
so humbly, trembling, I present
my fragile, shattered part.
If we who, fractured though we are,
combine our fragments, name our scars,
embrace the cracks in ruptured jars,
could we be living art?
*
The snowstorm today made driving (and photography) a bit of a challenge. So – how about some colour from last year instead?? 🙂 “…treasures in jars of clay…”
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