Shards Of Glass

A phrase keeps going through my head.... "like a child learning to walk on shards of glass."

Like most things that are out of the blue like that and stuck in my head...it is likely part of a poem or creative writing piece that is working toward being heard.
The shattered glass pieces are hard enough to spot in the light.  Finding them in the darkness? Impossible, until harm is already done.  It sounds chilling and painful.

I guess sometimes this path of healing feels like I am trying to reassemble a precious piece of art.  I have entered the stark darkness of the past.  I have had to.  It is the only way to retrieve all the pieces needed to remake, reform,  this piece of art into the beautiful piece it was always meant to be.

 Fumbling in the dark, I am pricked by sharp points of glass that draw a drop of blood from time to time.  Even moving with the utmost care, I have stepped on a few parts of the glass that have sliced my foot open. Those wounds have needed help from others, a few stitches and much more time to heal.

 Some of those same pieces have broken even more, making them unrecognizable.  That is okay.  The form these pieces of glass come together to make, will be different and unique still.  It will be beautiful and whole as it was meant to be.  Even if only briefly, when light sweeps through the area, beauty is reflected back already.

At times, I have thrown a few of those shards away.  Realizing that I no longer need them.  As the pieces come together, some of them just no longer fit in the design.  Some of the shards of glass never belonged there in the first place.

This time of gathering shards of glass in the dark, has not always been alone.  A few times, someone has come along with a flashlight and we have gathered pieces together.  They have had a hand in helping me transform this brokenness into a wonderful and forever changing, piece of art.

I recognize that although I am doing the difficult emotional work, I am not the Master designer.  The original masterpiece was never treasured.  It was thrown to the floor and shattered.  I am fortunate to have the opportunity to gather the pieces and offer them up to the light for transformation.