break

i.

we say:

“the world”

“everyone”

“everything”

is broken

words that summarize

but do not encompass 

the suffering

of each of the beings

who have been taught

through violence

through isolation

through poisonous words

that who they are is not enough

is less than

ii.

somewhere along the way

as i saw and

understood and

felt 

the suffering that is ours

my heart 

broke

and a thicket of brambles grew from it

protecting it

defending it

searching for a way to fix 

what is bigger than me

iii.

so i travel the world 

with my heart of brambles

sometimes leafy

sometimes thorny

sometimes sweet with sticky fruit

and i offer what i can

growing

occasionally blossoming

having difficult, sometimes prickly conversations

offering sweet fruit to those who will take it

hoping that the seeds will

drop 

in unexpected places

and flowers will grow from cement

their delicate roots 

nestling into concrete crevices

and breaking them

growing

connecting

so that one day

maybe years from now

that concrete will become soil

rich with nutrients for more flowers to grow

iv.

and maybe

my grandchildren’s grandchildren

will look upon a flower

or taste a blackberry

and know

 

that they are more than enough

and that their roots connect them

with other flowers

who also know 

that they are more than enough

and maybe they will remember

their great great grandmother’s 

broken heart

and give thanks that theirs

is whole.