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…”