The Healing

Shattered shards of beauty

Weep silently at the rending

Then gush great fountains of tears

For the wounds made by

Hammers of youth, of family, of circumstance

Which broke the luminous mold.

But, lo, He is bringing the jagged pieces,

Still pulsing with divine light,

Together.

They tremble, first touching,

Then pull away in fear.

What will it be like to be whole?

To show forth the Light

As was meant from ages long past?

Perhaps the energy will be too great--

Perhaps, coalescing, it will explode.

The thing of beauty is too wonderful to behold.

How much easier to gaze upon

The broken remnants!

But slowly, irresistibly, they come together

In Him.

I am finally who I was meant to be — the created.

And I am not afraid to look.