Always waiting
There are no words without wounds
to colour the blood and the healing;
the heart that grows stronger
with breaking at times -
so much stronger in love
and in knowing that pain
and these wounds and these words,
that describe and can’t live
in these colours of hurt,
are a function of love
and of trust and of hope:
that some day,
yet again,
I will love.
And if not this time:
not this heart,
not this blood,
not this wound
and not you
and not me,
come together -
then another healing
and another time,
another shadow to light moment later.
And yes, I will always trust
and hope,
that the wound and the blood
and that love may be waiting.