tough nova
I know I’m “sentimental.”
At least, that’s what I’ve coined it
because it sounds better to a stranger than
to more truthfully admit, I’m annoying.
I talk too much and I ramble,
I’m emotional instead of careful.
I leave my wounds out in the open
and call my friends when I’m hurting,
and it drives them away.
Yes, it does.
Because despite what we’ve told ourselves
we don’t love “openness” that much.
Outside of a seminar, or textbook,
it’s like
opening a wound: the problem is,
it’s for me and not for you.
It’s aid is for me to choose
And some can’t handle the sight of blood.
As the stitches open, one by one,
those who stay let the music play
and let me bleed until it’s done.
Surgeons of the heart, they are:
hearts, minds, and souls most of all,
healed not by the works of their own hands
but by grace and patience in God’s plan.
To those whose prayers are answered with struggle: the pain is meant to be
part of the wonder.
When they reach out a hand, take it -
but not to bind their wounds and scrapes,
instead be patient and respect their space
so they can learn at their own pace
the truth behind both sorrow
and strength.
We all reap the seeds we sow
and this I pray for those who don’t know:
Share the love you wish you had
and someone, I promise,
will soon take your hand.
robust merlin