Friday, 31 January 2014

When You Wish It Were Not So

You wish to fashion life, to carve it according to your desires
At times, you sculpt carefully, delicately;
A corner rounded off here, an edge whittled away there,
Seemingly without violence

More often though, your cuts are swifter, frantic, more desperate
As you hack away at everything you wish were not so

Despite your efforts to excise all that you dislike
Life – whilst it may appear, at first, to conform to your will –
Has a tendency to remain stubbornly, brazenly whole

It keeps all those discarded, broken, misshapen pieces for you
Knowing that, one day, you will need them: they are essential to your survival
For they are the very thing that your soul most craves

Then, when all the defences have been stripped away
When there’s not a single fibre or sinew left to hold you upright
When struggle, effort and opposition are ablaze on the pyre
And you are prepared to fall on the sword of what was and what wasn’t

You realise there was never anything missing
Despite this loss of incalculable proportions

All is intact. You’re whole. You’re here. 

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