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The Blessing of Vulnerability

While protecting themselves from

The pain of another broken heart,

Silhouettes ran away, leaving

Murky soul waters –

Opaque, clouded with particles of

Fractured selves that were

Splintered long ago.

Long ago when wounded spirits

Sealed in coffins could neither breathe nor

Love, protected as they were, from the

Rejections from their childhoods

Where they learned to be invulnerable.

Coffins nailed shut with spikes of

Luxury, obsessive work to climb an

Invisible ladder no one will remember,

Frivolous chatter, mindless distractions,

Soul-numbing officious busyness.

There the heart grows colder and harder

Until it can no longer feel or care.

The only place it is at home is an

Empty outer darkness,

Where shadows murmur to themselves.


Ah, but the vulnerable are blessed with

Hearts that bleed, connect, see, care,

That come in oneness with cruets of oil,

Cups of wine, and welcomes of grace

To the redwoods, and the children, and

The prophets who sleep under bridges.

Only those who risk loving know love.

Only those who know love are at one

With creator and creation.

Only those who dare to risk love

Live harmoniously

To love is to be vulnerable.

To be vulnerable is to open our hearts to

Pain, rejection, loss, sorrow, grief, and the

Daily dyings that allow warm, soothing

Light to flood into the soul.

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