Funny how vicious a cycle life is, isn’t it? It’s sadistic, almost. We spend most of it picking
up broken glass, trying to make sense of a deadly jigsaw puzzle that only leaves you
bleeding in the end. This is glass that, even when put back together, makes a window
that’s impossible to see out of.
When we finally slink away to lick the wounds, we return to broken sunshine glittering off
of the once again shattered window. Even though our old wounds are scabbing over, we
try to rebuild until there is nothing left but naked flesh, no protecting skin left, all blood
and exposed muscle…
But if we could only stop to see the way that the wicked sunlight shines off of our wrecked
windows or the way that the moon makes the pieces glow at night, then maybe we could
rest for one single moment. Maybe we could have peace… if just for one moment.
Maybe, even though the glass has shattered again, the beauty of a fresh breeze over an
abandoned window pane can remind us that, even though everything is damaged,
there is still beauty in the world.
There are still things worth living for, even when our hands are bloodied, even when
the pain of jagged shards in our flesh tortures us…there is always a way to find beauty.