Our heels crack from weary walkabout.
Hearts crack without tears.
Skin cracks and peels from lack of moisture.
Heads crack against buttresses impenetrable.
Our bones crack from heavy packs.
Finally, our very souls crack open
wetting cracked lips.
It's the only way to find our voice.
Take courage my friend. Being cracked open lets your story out. It is still being written.
but who wants to read...?
ReplyDeleteOh! Oh! Kathleen. This is so, so good!
ReplyDeleteGreat photos and your words complement them well.
ReplyDeleteI like in particular the 6th from the top, the split-open tree trunk. All those layers!
This is an amazing post, Kathleen. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks. :)
ReplyDeleteThose cracks, they are painful. And yet you are right . . . how else will the stories leak out of us. This was beautiful and insightful.
ReplyDelete