Not merely an acknowledgement of fragmentation, of the silence, or the water rising up all around me. Not merely to be sounds to fill the silence, or notes to hide the pain. Not merely to be the “it is what it is.” Not merely that beautiful, broken melody that signifies my sad humanness. Or the perfect porcelain exterior that hides the hollowness of feeling. Not merely the expression of the smallness of our own significance, or the paper hiding the hole in the wall.
So many goodbyes and not enough greetings.
None of these things… alone.
But to go further, an unmasking of the silence, the remembrance of the forgetfulness, an unveiling of the hidden wound so that it can face daylight and receive healing. A changing, an evolution of what one thing is into what it should be in its broken sublimity.
Not merely, but more.
A call to freedom and to love’s beginning.