by Nick Andrea
There’s a faultline in my heart,
where the two halves of me struggle to come together
sometimes quake, violently,
creating upheaval for both.
The inner world, like the outer, is one of
broken, shifting continents
that make up one, big whole,
moving, shifting, evolving,
sometimes, at the cost of growing pains.
But, in the spirit of not continuing to juice of longing, indefinitely,
but honoring the hope that has struck me, time and time again,
I must recall those great words spoken two millenia ago by the same One that lives within us all:
“This is my body broken for you.”
There’s got to be something in that,
to be broken is the way, the truth, the life of eternal peace.