Who Cares - What Matters
When the rain falls
it gathers in the potholes
the dipped
not so evenly carved out
valleys
deep earth scars
that hold it
more tenderly
than Angel hugs
until unnoticed
drop by drop
they evaporate in a
Sun’s Shine
that can never be imagined
only experienced
so that it wishes
for yet another time
when the rain falls
I’ m S O R R Y. . .
There really should have been a warning
before this video aired
ON CHRISTMAS MORNING,
no less. . .
but the thing I like about it
is the bare fact
I am completely
V U L N E R A B L E
absolutely
undeniably
unequivocally
naked
bare-bummed
out in front of everyone
uncovered
OUT THERE. . .
BELIEVE ME
I know that this video
is a not-so-perfect
rendition of Sara Bareilles’
LOVE IS CHRISTMAS;
it’s flat. . .
it’s shot poorly. . .
it’s not just OFF Key,
but off the KEY CHAIN. . .
there’s sound of rain against the house
as-an-unfiltered-
one-shot-unedited-version-background. . .
the Point:
It’s a whole lot like even the Best of Christmas:
P E R F E C T L Y
I M P E R F E C T
L O V E–
The real
warts,
scars
marred
nicked
blemished
and bloodied
is that way, too. . .
THE BOTTOMLINE:
It’s not what’s under the tree
or on the shelf
or coming directly from Amazon Prime
it’s just simply that
LOVE IS. . .
It’s taken me quite some time
but I finally have found out
that LOVE isn’t on
The Calendar
that Love isn’t
a Date or a Day
that Love isn’t
a Season or a particular time. . .
It’s a Lifestyle. . .
It comes to us at Perfectly Imperfect Moments. . .
L I F E T I M E S
can be lived in a single moment. . .
Quit trying to
GET IT RIGHT
and realize that IT
already IS
R I G H T—
a s i s
and when you do that. . .
as Imperfectly Perfect it is
A M E R R Y C H R I S T M A S
happens for AN EVER
and E V E R. . .
and not a bad
NEW YEAR,
either—
no matter what the date or season. . .
We all have them, don’t we?
S C A R S !
They always tell stories, don’t they?
Where we got them?
How long ago?
What they used to look like?
How they faded. . .
How,
How they still hurt. . .
But isn’t this the truest of true?
The worst scars there are,
the ones that hurt the most,
aren’t the ones we wear on our sleeves,
or can ever really be seen. . .
they’re the ones we wear on our hearts,
aren’t they?
It’s an older movie now,
“THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER,”
2012;
the book, older still, by Stephen Chbosky,
1999,
and there’s a Classic line that’ll knock you to your knees and let the funk run out, or at least, uncover that bruised, scarred, still-very-much-beating heart
“WE ACCEPT THE LOVE WE THINK WE DESERVE.”
Before I even hint of asking you,
is it
T R U E
or
F A L S E,
maybe what I should really ask is,
“Are you willing to show your scars,
every minute,
infinitesimal scar
your beating heart expands
with each pulsation?
Well. . . ?
T R U E
or
F A L S E ?
Sorry. . .
you’ve got to
S H O W
your work,
just like some Fifth Grade Math homework. . .
P R O V E I T !
Do Y O U,
Accept the Love
Y O U
think YOU deserve?
Want to see my scar ?
Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,
you already have—-
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm,
your scars are my scars,
my scars are yours. . .
