The darkest times

of my life have been

when I knew that no amount

of love and compassion

would reach through the pain

to another soul in distress,

and  my desperation to do so

began to undermine my own faith

in what can happen

when we chose to live a life

separate from our damage by

using it as fuel to become

something other than the things

that hurt us…

To finally accept

with a heart full of tears

that all the love in the world

cannot take away the pain

of someone not yet willing to

let it go…

To feel the slice of words

and actions from the choice

(or is it instinct?)

to perpetuate misery instead

of choosing to grow something

beautiful from what is learned…

When all I could do

was accept them as they were,

plant love on barren ground

and seeds of hope,

with the dream that someday

they will decide to

water them,

like I did




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