ugly things made beautiful

there is beauty in broken things,

an anguished heart,

the liberty bell,

a shattered window pane.

but what of the listless?

what of the mundane?

an empty bucket,

a concrete floor,

a dreary, frozen rain?

what about the homely,

or the hideously deformed,

is there beauty found there too?

comeliness in cancer?

loveliness in the flu?

what about a pus filled zit,

or corn kernels embedded

in a pile of shit?

could bileous vomit,

spewn in anxiety,

ever be called poignant?

no less "ever so lovely!"

i suppose not, though

hope so.

i have been merciless,

vulgar, impatient, vain;

i have been a bastard

self-piteously in pain.

i have played the villian

in another's anguished brain;

i have mocked the awkward,

self-conscious and deranged.

i have been the sinner

casting vengeant stones;

i have been the outcast,

cold and trembling all alone...

i hope, i pray,

somehow, some way,

to take my vile ashes,

and make them beautiful someday.

View ewbonitz's Full Portfolio
Starward's picture

We are broken in this life. 

We are broken in this life.  But Jesus was broken on the cross, broken to death, that in His resurrected wholeness, we will receive the wholeness with which we will live with and through Him in Heaven, unto the ages of ages.  He died our deaths so that we could live His life---with Him and through Him, in the place He has prepared for us.  I thank you, and pray God's blessing envelop you, for another great poem of spiritual testimony.

Enjoy effulgent days, and exquisite nights,

unto the exultations of Heaven.