I Believe in Brokenness

My parents are like water.

Both so concentrated

       so powerful

       so strong-minded.

(Bending/falling/constantly moving) with the current.

My mother is lovely.

Not quite a river,

but bigger than a stream.

Always on the move,

never staying in one pond too long.

My father is commanding.

A river all on his own,

comparable to the Mississippi.

He never flows with the current,

he forges a new path.

When they met,

they built a dam.

One deep-rooted enough to hold

all the water they fill it with.

And they filled it to the top.

My sister and I are the dam’s contents.

Compassionate

stubborn

everlasting.

Filling the dam to the brim, never spilling over.

But nothing is indestructible,

and everything can break.

The waters have never been still,

and sometimes

the movement creates earthquakes.

Gradually

the dam weakens,

its contents begin to shake.

Once serene environment now

full of (yells/screams/shouts)

Perhaps my parents were too powerful,

perhaps the dam was not strong at all.

Because now everything is loud

        everything is cracking.

And with final shouts of shattered promises,

the dam breaks.

The walls collapse,

and its contents spills forth.

Immersing everything in sight

nothing is safe.

It takes years,

for the waters to subside.

When it does,

the aftermath is better

than anything that was created before.

Everything previously there,

was washed away.

The landscape is

new

clean

free.

Now something new can be created.

something that will not hold the water captive.

An ocean.

An ocean where many rivers pour their love into it

so it grows strong

and can stand on it’s own.   

Perhaps it will be better this way.

Perhaps it will be better broken.

Now nothing is keeping the water captive,

it is free to move where it wishes,

unrestricted.

Although the dam is broken, it is good,

Because it allows for future creation.

I believe in Brokenness.