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forgive me for being soft and broken,

forgive me for tears at the tired shores of my eyes

every morning, forgive that i hold pain as i hold love

as i hold hope as i hold life, unable still to rescue

bloom from thorn, forgive this flower of my heart that waits, 

and withers, mother, forgive the sadness at the bone, 

forgive the warm blood, forgive the skin and the scars. 

forgive forgive forgive

this human, this child, this life, this longing, this tremble

that curls here in this silent moment, holding on. 

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Incense burns down and smoke cools off. Steam from tea fogs my glasses for a moment. The cloud fixed on the horizon is gone when I look back. Everywhere, leaves are falling. Dust settles again on untouched places, and the body's knots need untangling every morning. Broken things heal and healed things stay a little broken. And somewhere in the middle, my soul rolls like a drop of silver water. Yesterday was rain, and today there's sun. Sometimes there's prayer, and sometimes there's silence.