generated by sloganizer.net

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Introspective Mornings

How long will I stand
with this hand
thrust through shattered ribs,
fingers curled 'round a
desperate
beating
heart

My heart

How long am I willing
to bleed and die in silence,
in my self-made darkness
before I find some scrap of courage
large enough to
cry out
to tear myself open in
the late watches of the night
the Angels' hour
before the arms that never refuse to hold
the shattered glass of an empty soul.

The is no beauty in a man
closed inside himself
but there is in a broken one
and there is poetry in the tears I long to shed.

5 Comments:

Blogger heartlikeaglass said...

there is beauty in the shattered glass
see how the sunlight bounces off the edges
throwing prisms through the air?
there is beauty in the surrendering clay
that yields as it is re-shaped
into something more noble
there is beauty in the voice of a child
who runs to the father
crying, "i want to be like you!"

11:07 AM  
Blogger gelfling said...

there are some things you must read slowly, word by word, like scripture.. and breathe deeply..

2:38 PM  
Blogger Kim said...

Ben thats amazing.

11:05 PM  
Blogger Ray said...

Ben, wow, that is awesome. You have an amazing talent. And Jo I totally agree with that.

12:59 PM  
Blogger PlushToy said...

Thanks so much, all of you. I mean that.

11:17 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home