In a very ordinary life
There is an extraordinary amount of pain
And like the tree that spends all winter grieving for it's lost leaves . . .
Every single time we fail, or hurt, or suffer a loss in this life,
we are convinced that this is
the one thing we will absolutely never recover from.
But then, with time;
(For one reason . . . many reasons . . .
or, for no reason at all!)
We do recover
Or, at least
We keep on keeping on
Somehow still holding on to hope,
which is the most fragile thing in the world.
We see that our ordinary life
with it's extraordinary pain
also contains an astonishing amount of beauty too.
And we take a breathe
And things start to level out.
And, God knows how,
but maybe we even manage to smile again!
As we start to realise that nothing really matters much
But everything is meaningful.
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