Broken Pieces
How can it be,
these broken pieces
that from such dull unthinking come,
some unlinking blunder,
fall around me so beautifully,
in such a way as to reflect the light?
I think I might like a bite of this apple.
Build a chapel around me,
take it with me as I fall or not,
stall or stop,
I forgot but I didn't,
Lost the plot but it isn't for nothing.
The way this light shines is something.
Something clear, something old,
to be nearer, to behold and see
I am that that is and that can be.
Trust me, its easy to judge
in the space between you and it
but were all doing it
screwing it up,
chewing ourselves to bits with the idea that this is failing
but this is how we do it
and my god we do it well
in every way that that it can be done.
It's the same sun,
the same centre.
I fly east for the winter,
try and ease these splinters gently,
sent to me to mentally provoke thoughts that will heal me
and in capital letters
MESS MYSELF UP to make myself live better.
Helping aint helping if I leave myself empty
and there's plenty to tempt me
into giving it all away
but not today.
Hopefully not ever.
We dont just float,
we ARE the river.
Copyright © Even Flow | Year Posted 2018
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