The first things to break
are made of glass—
tumblers, vases,
window panes—
then the wood,
how it snaps,
the floors, the counters,
the entire frame,
and even the metal—
the stainless, the iron,
the rings,
it all shatters, collapses,
everything,
and it takes a long time
for the shards and dust,
for the wreckage and the whole ruined lot
to become what it is,
just a heap of stuff,
not what we are made of,
not at all what we are made of.
thank goodness for wrecking balls. love, love, love.
Oh baby. I remember sitting in my car once with Jude Janett in front of Cimarron and she warned me that all the walls would come down. I heard it as a threat then, though she did not present it that way. Now it feels like the only way. She told me yesterday she was quoting Rumi … She is a real life Rumi, no doubt about it.
Xo r
I love the progression of what breaks, from the seemingly most fragile to the seemingly endurable. And the distinction with the repetition of those last two lines works like a little mantra at the end. Happy Easter.
Right on, this rocks!
Thanks, Jim … As in earthquake …
Hugs to you, r
walls that separate, that confine/define, will come down
things will be broken, so that their cores will be revealed