A Curious Piece / The Soul



thoughts on the struggles of the human heart and the soul

The heart is a curious piece.

If wounded, it surely retreats…

The naked eye, gazing in-toward

Finds it lit dimly by loneliness…

but no words.

Down the corridor, further in the turn

A faint image of a soul is discerned

Curled up by the wall, hiding its face

It wants to reach out, it needs an embrace

The past and its cracking has done its work

Leaving this weary soul to hurt

The courage that it has is beyond refute

It will try, yet be hurt again, and cry out til it’s mute.

Each time it wonders what it did wrong

Maybe it turned ugly, or it has been so all along

It hides deeper and deeper inside of this heart

Acceptance it longs for, but it can’t map or chart

As the naked eye peers inside

It finds a hand reach toward the sky

Not to find another hand, not near…

It grasps and closes the opened tear

The wounded heart it stitches up

With threads of faith and hope and such

The trust is gone, but can’t be forgotten

For through that wound it let God in.

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