Friday, March 14, 2008

What you know

I don't know you. I don't know your pain. I do not see the broken glass that cuts your soul, the pain that your smile hides.

I do not know of the stormy last words you had with your son, the terror of the lump in your breast, the long battle that your father fought against the disease that stole him from you so young still.

I cannot see what you see when you close your eyes -- the sound of the bombs exploding, the screams of your neighbors as the soldiers poured into your village, the long years you spent as a refugee trying to survive.

I was not with you in that filthy apartment as you stood in the doorway with your teddy bear in your hand and as you watched your mother writhe to the cadence of crack and as you ran and hid so that her boyfriend wouldn't see you and come for you again with sick lust in his eyes.

I have my hidden pains, too, stories I could tell.

In every life, joy is mingled with sorrow.


Janice Thomson said...

Yes, we all do. Not many have gone through life unscathed. The question is whether we learned from it and moved ahead.

Rebecca said...

Joy and sorrow are the lead performers on the dance floor of our souls. All we can hope is that they choose to lead the dance in equal measure, and while one leads, the other remembers to act as anchor, but not buckle under the weight. We should also remember, should we not, that the joys deserves equal or greater voice than the sorrows, and that true strength is born of both.

chipazoid said...

Where art thou, crumpet?

eastcoastdweller said...

Crumpet Boy has been abominably busy this month. I am so looking forward to a few days off next week.

Ela (braveheart) said...

Happy Easter!