She said her heart was broken.
I said: Good. I’m glad.
Maybe now the residue of
yesterdays will seep out through
the cracks. Perhaps light,
filtering into the fading darkness,
will reveal what has always been
there but suffocated by the
severity of pain.
I told her: Don’t be afraid.
Don’t try to gather up the
broken pieces as if they might
reconnect. Let them be. The
edges are too sharp, the stains
too deep.
I know. I feel your hand
trembling in mine. But let’s
sit together for a while and
watch the flowers grow, and
feel the fresh breeze, and
taste the sweet rain as it
falls on our upturned faces.
Soon flowers will grow in the
garden of your heart and
you will be surrounded by
the fragrances of lilacs.
I will wait with you and we
will smile at the first sign
of little green shoots of life
emerging, seeking
the joy of light.
Sonoran Desert Writer 