Beauty grows in broken Places
Take the rose
for example:
furled petals releasing
scent,
swaying in the breeze.
Opening to stunning
perfection,
delicate beauty.
Rose
I angle my camera
to shut out the weeds.
I don’t focus on the ragged earth
littered with dead leaves.
No.
I focus on the rose;
quickly snapping its very best side
before the rain comes,
the wind blows,
the petals fall.
Roaes
What will I remember?
The beauty of the rose.
Right now we won’t discuss
its expiry date.
I’m challenged to see beauty
in the midst
of brokenness.
Hard pressed
but not crushed,
so Paul spoke of it.
Roses on my walk
I walk,
scouring my landscape for beauty,
finding it everywhere.
And then I step on this
Broken and crushed cement
stepped on, ragged.
Gravel heart
But shaped in a heart.
Brokenness framed by love.
Can I offer my broken pieces
fragility and beauty wrapped in one?
An honest offering,
knowing I am loved.
As I am.
Poetry and photos by Grace june 2020
