Robert Ludden Poet Free verse

Suffering Fellowship

There is the martyr
known to self alone...
reaching forth to snare a taunting hurt,
itself suspended in a void
and waiting for its glory.

But, martyrs make for poor
angelic messengers, it seems.
There is this gift of weeping
cemented in a priceless moment
as a jewel to a ring--
possessed, and then imparted
to another.  

Here the weak grow strong
and blessed frailty alone
may dissipate persistent clouds
which yet obscure
the face of God.
Here the backward look sustains
and bares fulfillment of a need.
Break this protective shell,
and know the power of pain
in other eyes and hearts.

Clearly, jewels of tears, though dried,
can never bear a price.
And memory, an empty box
without them.
For here the teardrop shared
effects a marriage indissoluble,
a trust that focuses of loss
and gains a cosmic soul.
            ~

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