In a moment of need,
I held him as he wept,
I kept his tears as if they were treasure.
I saw his brokenness, I felt his grief.
His wounds have scars, but the blood still flows.
Murder, death, loss, regret, honor, strength, orders followed.
Betrayal, humiliation, meditation, endurance, zen...then freedom.
Freedom to fall. Fall. Fall.
A new season of brokenness begins, as does a time of mending.
A season of dependency, and of growth- perhaps like no other.
Then an era of love.
Still tied by strands to things of the past. Some bonds are more easily broken than others. The hardest to let go of- run deep.
Abandonment, insecurity, hunger pains.
No fear of the dark, Armor, weapons, tactical skills, discernment, hands off.
All tools to keep fools and pain at bay.
Yet- I wrap myself around him.
I need him when he is cold. I ache when he is hungry and alone. I grasp his closed hand and rub the muscles which carried weapons, changed lives, and tended to the wounded. His wounds have waited long enough.
The future swirls before us. Nothing is clear except the Need.
The Need to be loved and accepted with our broken hearts, and broken bones.
The Need to be known as we are, with the blood, the unborn, and the darkness which surrounds us to be washed away, uncovered, and illuminated.
The Need to look into the eyes of another and find no judgement.
A Need to be treasured and held dear.
And You are beloved friend,
I held him as he wept,
I kept his tears as if they were treasure.
I saw his brokenness, I felt his grief.
His wounds have scars, but the blood still flows.
Murder, death, loss, regret, honor, strength, orders followed.
Betrayal, humiliation, meditation, endurance, zen...then freedom.
Freedom to fall. Fall. Fall.
A new season of brokenness begins, as does a time of mending.
A season of dependency, and of growth- perhaps like no other.
Then an era of love.
Still tied by strands to things of the past. Some bonds are more easily broken than others. The hardest to let go of- run deep.
Abandonment, insecurity, hunger pains.
No fear of the dark, Armor, weapons, tactical skills, discernment, hands off.
All tools to keep fools and pain at bay.
Yet- I wrap myself around him.
I need him when he is cold. I ache when he is hungry and alone. I grasp his closed hand and rub the muscles which carried weapons, changed lives, and tended to the wounded. His wounds have waited long enough.
The future swirls before us. Nothing is clear except the Need.
The Need to be loved and accepted with our broken hearts, and broken bones.
The Need to be known as we are, with the blood, the unborn, and the darkness which surrounds us to be washed away, uncovered, and illuminated.
The Need to look into the eyes of another and find no judgement.
A Need to be treasured and held dear.
And You are beloved friend,
You are.
-CRB/1.12.11
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