fancifullove

I am taut.

Taught.

To hold everything in balance.

The reality with hope, the sorrow with gladness.

But some days, I’m not so sure. And

I feel like a bridge suspended between strong winds,

Wondering: If I drop one end, who falls?

I have grown.

Known.

A heart that beats dichotomously

Just like the world outside of me.

Look!

It screams.

It speaks to me in duality –

Light: dark and bright.

Weight: heavy and slight.

Life: lost and new.

Hope: black and blue.

Love: me not you?

My arms quake to bridge the distance. Because

If I drop one end, who falls?

My eyes read.

Red.

As I flip through familiar pages

“There is a time to mourn and a time to dance,” say the sages.

But what is dancing if

Not the balance between rising and falling?

Between and smiling and sobbing?

I stretch my arms and ponder

That the body holds these tensions,

Too.

I once heard.

Learned.

There was a man from Nazareth.

Who built tables with his hands, and stories with his words.

Who made bridges with his life, raised.

Who walked among our sin,

Kin.

I see him

And realize

I don’t know much of love.

He holds tensions flawlessly.

God and man.

Lion and lamb.

Spirit and flesh.

Cursed and blessed.

My soul is won.

One.

With Jesus, the perfect paradox

Who carries everything in balance.

My own arms quake to hold the distance.

When I can’t hold the tensions, he holds me.