Thursday, August 26, 2010

Remnants

Shards of forgiveness lie scattered about on the cold, hard floor of my heart. Little scraps of childhood gather dust, shredded and discarded. Pieces of hope stab me painfully at every turn. Love mocks me from it's many smashed fragments strewn among the wistful remains. Desires are in smithereens, crying to be remembered.

The only thing solid is a big corner of rejection, staring dismally into the distance. Loneliness settles in over all, like a cloud of fate waiting to isolate it's world.

Wandering in, I am hopelessly lost within my own heart. I try to make sense of the frightful wreckage. Cringing, I grasp a shred of hope, only to feel it crumble beneath my fingertips. Even looking in the direction of dreams brings unshed tears of despair to brighten the sickle blue of my eyes.

Falling to my knees, I send out a mute scream. Inside my heart, the sound is deafening, ripping up the walls, saturating my body with agony and defeat. Indeed, the very heartbeat that surrounds me yearns for death, to pulse in anguish no more. I cover my ears to drown the siren call of the grave, but it pours into my soul, searching to find a home here. Here, where hope once resided, a gaping chasm passionately aches to be inhabited.

As I dissolve into a flood of tears and lose myself in a world of hurt, I do not notice the breathy note that sings to me. Virtually silent, the gentle token floats up to me from the depths. As I catch my breath, I hear the soft crescendo. Sweetly serenading me, like an aria on a violin, it settles to rest over me. It is a note of promise, and it is not dead, but whispers beautiful life into my ears. In the peaceful reverence that calms me, I reach for the crushed remnants of my life and arrange them in jagged forms before me.

There is life, and it is broken, but it is beautiful. Tried by fire, the shards shine like gold. The diamonds freed within my soul send a million prisms of starlight bursting into the ruins. I find a mosaic beauty in the serrated debris. Arranged like a puzzle, somehow the chaos holds meaning. It speaks of a happily ever after. It fills every fiber of my being with a splendid virtuoso, a song of hope and love. Blood again courses freely from a steadily beating organ.

With a start, I come back to the ashy ground zero that is my heart. The dream is the gold; I have yet to find it. The hope that whispers to me has yet to penetrate the ice that is my veins. Freedom is but a term that taunts me with false condensation.



To but find my bliss, O soul do not despair
But lead me to the sweet hope that be
Make visible this love e'er fair
And show me the way to victory.

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