TRAUMA
by Adam Sifre
Everybody breaks.
Everything splinters.
The world is whirlwind.
We are debris, swept up in a mundane maelstrom.
Held together by unseen currents, we move forward in familiar circles.
Until we break. Until we splinter.
Then, flung away, torn from it all.
The maelstrom a memory, an illusion.
The needful and the givers
broken shards, both.
We stand apart, deprived of our ordinary life in a mundane world.
We are other.
Holy sparks.
Finding each other in the darkest places,
we share our secret light.
Sealing the dark cracks and broken places
With unspoken gifts and small, priceless gestures.
We are bound. Healed but transformed. Never the same.
Less and greater.
Broken and whole.
Scarred and reborn.
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Author's Note
A poem for anyone with scars.
Other stories by Adam Sifre
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Well done, Adam.
The last stanza. *
Ditto.
"Holy sparks"
Thought I'd try an edit (wish more people would do this with my own stuff)
The world is whirlwind.
We are debris, mundane maelstroms, unseen
currents, we move
forward
in circles. Until
we break, splinter,
then, flung, torn. We are other.
*Thank you for the last stanza especially. I need reassurance these days.
Thanks for the read, everyone. Samuel, thanks for the suggested edits. If I delete "swept up in a," then the meaning of the line changes, making maelstrom a metaphor for the person instead of the world.