What comes of breaking?
When a shell breaks
We might see a bird, a snake,
A dragon or a pearl emerge.
When a cocoon crumbles
It might be a gypsy moth that spreads its wings
Or it could be a monarch butterfly.
When a mirror breaks
Do the shards reveal seven years of bad luck?
Or perhaps seventeen
Different sized and shaped ways of seeing ourselves
That we had not before considered?
What if, when the heart breaks,
We could find ourselves
Holding on to our capacity to love in the first place
And let the pain stand there right next to it
Let them shakily hold hands
Inside our souls
Where there is room for all of it
Where all of it really belongs.
