It might appear as ragged, tired, or raw
an overlooked one in a dark alley
or a lonely one in the cold of night.
Though it might echo a chilling wail
or bellow with pompous forgetting
listen closer, friend
come here, friend.
Under your torn heart
shattered by worn threads of forgetting
a glint of sunlight
like answered prayer
reveals an ancient language
of brokenness becoming love
and truth finding voice
and birdsong landing in fresh morning dew.
Photo by Elizabeth Gadd
