The Gift

Don’t I know this
Feeling of homelessness.

And don’t I know
How real the loneliness
In your bones is.

Slow down and notice
The gloriousness afforded;
The view through the newly-opened window
Of your broken heart.

This gift of clear vision.

Think on
The sacred company
You’re in:

Has there been one instance
Of wisdom
In the history
Of this misbegotten existence
Elicited from anything but heart-brokenness?

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It is an act of grace
To shatter the packaging,
To peel the encasement,

To reveal your true soul’s face and,
Say, with outstretched arms,
Here, here is the shape of my heart.

There is nothing left
but to be swept
away by love.


Photo: “Broken Panel” by Ari He