A better burden

What hold this has on me, has on you. How silently it has arrived and gripped us to never want to leave. The distance dwarfed in a moment, the colours merged to a bright white or a heavy black. The difference was lost on me mostly. You have freed up parts of yourself for me, to kindly wait, to kindly change what time has done to you, to me. I am still bound, slow to move with your pace. We must run, but hurry where? We must stand still, but wait for the day to end? You have shown unthinkable braveness and gently bent down to pick me up, to gather my ghost-like body from the ground. Then we took off together, began a journey we seldom knew was waiting. You have bent with a straight back, I have allowed myself to be lifted, put upright.

We are two sparrows, battered by the winds and rain. We are helpless birds tossing in a storm, strong enough to stay alive, too weak to remember why. Just as I give up, you arrive to hold me. Just as you close your eyes in sweet defeat, I appear to keep you flying if only for a little while. Then you whisper you are tired, bone tired. I see how you have lost the secrets that bettered your heart, that have showed your spirit how to shine. I see the wounds and know the hurt. I feel the tears that never leave your bright blue eyes. I know the hurt that leaves your body in unseemly instances, when it is still, when it is finally dark. I feel the pain that you hide and share. I hold you to ease the memory of the long and treacherous day. I hold you for the new, for the old to come and sooth not wound. I hold you and wait in endless patience for the heal to come. Suddenly, with much waiting, the way forward is shown.

These are my scars, the bruises of my soul. I have parts you know, some you will never see. There are things that you already feel and I may never discover. The secrets I have kept for so long are slowly in the daylight, uncovered and bare. My frail body and unfinished soul wait for your every word. Wait the touch of your kind words in the daylight, wait for the gentle caresses of your soul at night. Your own saving has to be put on hold until you save me. I arrive as a wet bird at your doorstep, barely able to make a sound. With the biggest heart I have ever seen you take me, dry my unsure eyes, bandage my fragile wings, kiss my broken beak to safety, to health. I am much work, I am much time taken, I am in need of much care. The sunrise helps, reminds me I am alive, shows you the joy in mending for an instant. Mending for someone else. While you tell me of your troubles to calm my worried soul, I feel that I must grow stronger, heal quicker for you. This flight we must take together and soon. Forgive me if I am unsure, take no notice if I am sure too quickly. I am drawn to your sadness and your strength, I may never be able to let go. All this I am forcing you to take on, forcing you to bring the numb back to life. I worry in the day, I worry at night that it may be too much. But I hum and hope that you can lay your head beside my better burden until the heal has come.

Measures of your love

You worry too well. You uncloak the fury with amazing haste. Bare bones and crippled souls stare back at you and the lights are dimmer than you remember. The house is silent, it has been for years. The creaking of the floorboards echo a soothing sound for your soul. The hungry heart escapes the wind-blown cracks on the wall: breeze that chills the air for an instant. The footsteps are soft, almost unheard. The traces of past doings appear on mirrors and mattresses, just the way you hoped they would never do. The curtains must remain drawn, there is something new in the making. The old moulds into the seemingly strange but you plunge and carry the torch to pass on the flame. The eternal flame of your wondrous heart.

These are the seeds that are softly sowing by your side. Hurriedly taken, hollow parts left closed away in rooms and boxes. The precious heart broken to pieces on the floor. The sun set and rose without you ever looking up. The wind blew and the house sheltered you. The grass grew and the leaves of trees turned from green to brown. Then the rain appeared, you heard it fall on the roof, heard its plea to enter through the windows. In your heart’s stillness you recognised the faces that have unwillingly left. The colours changed on the wall, the brightness of your spirit dimmer, the eyes once so curious now tear filled with each memory lost. The pain unthinkable, the motions of letting go breeding sorrow. Always.  

The secret time holds appears seldom. You wait it out and slowly see that from the cliff where you thought yourself standing there is a bridge growing. Familiar faces line the path that you must now take. This you must do for yourself. This you must teach your heart, the badly hurt, bruised and always aching heart. Aching for the missing parts that have been veiled for the hope of a better fate. The little hands will hold you, stronger than you think they can. The little smiles will greet you, fuller than you hope they can. The little hearts will fill the space missing in your big, beautiful heart, truer than you ever wish they could. The sun will forget to set, will stay to shine past the hour that needs to see you peacefully slumber. The fortunes that you hold will become full and unbearable the thought of loss. The moments cannot linger, the physics of time passing must make every instant temporary, but by the time the fire dies down you will have known how much you hurt, how much you count the loss as gain. Your grace and love float on the murky waters of a restless sea. Your bearings are sometimes lost, you steer with truth towards the unwavering shore. Nothing breaks the force and faith with which you hold the beacon of hope. In the wholeness I admire the unending measures of your abundant love.