2004-11-11

porcelain

porcelain tears stream from
the wound in my eye
fragile drops, glass, of hope
fall and shatter upon
hard, solid ground
but a strange thing begins
those broken drops of hope
turn that hard, solid ground
to a soft bed of mud
of grace, of peace
of all soft, gentle things
the power of tears to break
the power of pride

No comments:

Post a Comment