There was a kind
of strength
that came out
of my deepest pain
and mixed with the
tenderness
shattered pieces of
my own heart had
worked so hard
to push down —
because they sensed
the amount of truth
they would cry out
was too much
for any one piece
to hold —
but they were never
seperate, really.
This strength found
a way
to reach up
just once more
when it had been
pushed down
too many times
to count.
This strength stood
and looked
at all that was
painful and terrible —
straight in the face.
And it vowed
to feel its own part
in it.
It agreed to keep reaching
because it had felt
the reaching back
of a hand
holding that same fear
that shook
in its own —
if only for
an instant.
Laurie's Notes 