Faces on the Street

When one carries within him

the fragments of a broken heart

every face he passes on the street

is at once as intimate as the pallor

of his deepest sorrow

and as foreign as the joy of love

transformed in the ordinary instant

from something tangible

to the shadow of a fantasy. 

*

But what is really interesting

is that when he carries instead

a heart blooming with the fruits of passion

he experiences the same paradox.

And so perhaps love hits us the same

whether we’re falling in

or out.

*

Perhaps – perhaps – love

simply helps us to see the ways in which God

has made life

Unknowable

Impossible

and therefore beautiful

beyond measure. 

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