The word sticks in my mind.
Beats in tandem with my heart.
A little girl gets her unbroken burger,
and we are verklempt at the kindness of strangers.
A young man stays in a theater and dies
because the cops working security break him
As if he were driftwood in the way.
For every story of brokenness made whole,
Stories of brokenness made threaten to overwhelm us.
Somehow we can simultaneously want to
mend another's brokenness while
ensuring that we break someone else
because they are too other.
It's a word we use to suit our needs.
We want to think that others are not.
If others are other, than empathy is not needed,
and it doesn't matter if they are broken,
because our brokenness matters more.
We are all broken, mended, tattered, worn.
Some of us do better jobs of covering the brokenness,
Others wear it with pride and a chip.
Our time on earth is a series of breaking
Followed by mending and building.
We learn our humility, our humanity,
In the series of breaking and building
We do over a lifetime.
Until we are broken no more.