The Holy Broken

Ana Lisa de Jong

28 August 2019

The Holy Broken

Forget the mask.
Forget the forehead set.
Forget the stiff upper lip.

Let yourself tremble,
shake like the windblown leaf,
speak your truth.

Though it might be to admit
fear or pain.

Life has its vicissitudes
and we can sometimes start to roll
like a stone gathering speed,

or may feel
the pounding of waves
as driftwood afloat on the sea.

But forget the mask,
and the face set like flint,
the lips that do not move.

Cast off shame.
For the tears that fall
are made to cleanse.

The crutch leant on
to stand,
is to aid rehabilitation.

And the heart that breaks open
reflects the naked eye’s
silent plea,

that there be no incongruence
between action
and speech.

Yes, forget the mask.
And the poker set face,
the mouth sewn tightly shut.

Come out of hiding,
for the world to see
your naked face.

The world needs us each,
the strong and the often weak,
the holy broken

in community.

©Ana Lisa de Jong
Image Valentin Antonucci

'The ultimate truth of who you are is not
I am this or I am that,
but I am.'
Eckhart Tolle