When the heart
Is cut or cracked or broken,
Do not clutch it;
Let the wound lie open.
Let the wind
From the good old sea blow in
To bathe the wound with salt,
And let it sting.
Let a stray dog lick it,
Let a bird lean in the hole and sing
A simple song like a tiny bell,
And let it ring.
~Michael Leunig “When the Heart”
The birds they sang
At the break of day
I heard them say
Don’t dwell on what
Has passed away
Or what is yet to be
You can add up the parts
but you won’t have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
~Leonard Cohen from “Anthem”
Wounds come in various sizes and shapes,
some hidden, some quite obvious to all.
How they are inflicted also varies–
others therapeutic and life-saving,
and too many, as happened this week,
intentionally and horrifically inflicted.
The most insidious are wounds so deep inside,
no one can see or know they are there.
Those can cause fear and anger
that break a heart and mind with
a desire to control one’s destiny
by destroying others’.
These scars of living damaged,
these horrific wounds that don’t heal,
either lead to forever darkness
or can sting in repair, bathed by a Light
where before was none.
No wound is as deep and wide
as what the Word made Flesh
has borne for us:
love oozes from them,
grace heals from within.
Let the bells ring and never be silenced.
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