Fault Lines
Brush by delicate brush
I uncover the skeleton
Only four years old
it carved fault lines
in who I might become
cautious instead of creative
Every touch leaves signs
elephants snap limbs,
monks arouse hearts
with their clarity,
soldiers blast cities to rubble,
each singular action shifts
the bones of our world
Pick petals from the daisy
it matters, it doesn’t matter
it matters, it doesn’t
both are holy true
Meet the long ago
metabolize and mend
admire fault lines everywhere
trace with care and gold
What a gorgeous poem!
That line about picking petals from the daisy is very deep, Didi. The image of tracing our old fault lines with gold makes the heavy years feel quiet and mended. It’s a beautiful piece to read today. ❤️