~

he is a stone...

one side
polished smoothly;
the tumbling years,
the pain of tears,
in currents swift
cannot resist them
water’s unyielding flow;
to pain the edges
falling,
yielding slow.

yet another side exists;
a side so deeply etched,
with thoughts contrived
for sole survival;
where words belie a depth
in soul's arrival;
made whole, a step removed
from hope bereft,
for in the naked light,
of bleating heart's
interrogation room,
a bottom lies
of darkest night...
here beginnings of
a ressurection,
a will to be
so long as there is
air to breathe!

which side they see
is of his choosing;
his composure rich
a brief exposure is,
just the smallest glimpse,
but for a moment
what he shares.
for he has learned
that rocks are not
so hard as he
once thought;
and fissures deep,
can be revealed,
as cracked and broken,
if to all in this
unfeeling world,
he bares his truest soul.
and so he hides
the other side,
unyielded to
outside control.

with certainty,
his stone has
two faces.

~

*post script.

if we are honest with ourselves, do we not all have two faces? and is not this honesty our impetus... become our empathy... for others?
for me,  it is this honesty that allows me to love what i would not otherwise love in others.