Learning to love broken things (a poem)

June 9, 2020

 photo credit: Shutterstock

 

Learning to love broken things

 

I am learning to love broken things
Like the beauty of rust that bears witness to epochs past
Or the tired barnacles that cling steadfastly to the underbellies of sunken ships
To value the signs of aging as patina on antiques rather than as tarnish on time.

 

I am learning to love broken things
To accept the parts of myself that can never be made whole
That won't ever be perfect
That will always be incomplete
Like an unfinished Rembrandt
Or the ruins of a once great city.

 

To love something unlovable

Not because it will one day produce

Or turn a profit

But simply because it is

Because it belongs to me

And because it shapes me

Like an unseen force​.

 

I am learning to love broken things
Even though it hurts to embrace them
Like hugging a porcupine
Or remembering a childhood trauma
To admire the fire even as it burns down the family home.


I am learning to love broken things
To see the shadows as inseparable equals to the light that casts them
To search graciously for the grains of truth buried deep inside every lie
To have faith even when institutions are unworthy of our trust
And religions are as fallible as we are.

I am learning to love broken things
To be patriotic for a country that doesn't exist
To live in a reality that never matches its ideals
To partake in histories that can never be made right.

I am learning to love broken things
To find redemption somewhere between the grotesque crosses of the martyrs

And the squeaky clean halos of the saints
To consume stale bread and sour wine as holy sacraments
To bridge the chasms of the divided self

That project themselves unknowingly onto an unsuspecting society
To welcome the stranger of grief

Knowing its visits are never permanent
To make peace with failure by harvesting its wisdom
To cultivate desire like one tends to a secret garden

Uprooting shame like weeds
To make love like one writes poetry

With rapt attention and curious delight.

I am learning to love broken things
To be an embodied soul

Making little fuss between flesh and spirit

To see protest as prayer and prayer as protest

To care tenderly for my psyche like a mother holding a newborn child
To master the art of imperfection
To forgive myself and others for being human.

I am learning to love broken things
To discover unimaginable strength in unrelenting weakness
Faithfulness forged through the crucible of adversity
Integrity through the humble deliverance of confession.

I am learning to love broken things
Raw hope in the face of future despair
Persistence in the stubborn monotony of the present
Priceless treasures in the plunder of the past.

 

 

 

Please reload

Featured Posts

Learning to love broken things (a poem)

June 9, 2020

1/1
Please reload

Recent Posts

May 21, 2020

Please reload

Search By Tags
Follow Us
Please reload

  • Facebook Classic
  • Twitter Classic
  • Google Classic