Panes of glittering stained glass
stains disfigured from the past
ache of all the pains that last 
art of splinters deftly cast
in the frame that holds it fast
through the cracks the light gets in.

Vast the colors of the shapes
sliced and soldered into place
the magnificence of a scene
made of broken bits that gleam
the way my life has often seemed
yet through the cracks the light gets in.

Gathering symptoms into song
treading light or resting long
every experience belongs
seeming right or seeming wrong
for from sheer weakness breeds the strong
and through the cracks the light gets in.

Dawn in sureness breaks the night
as through the trauma and the blight 
stirs a shining figure bright
shadows shrink and then take flight
for in the cracks and in the light
is the frail and glorious sight
of a victor in each one 
restored to wholeness in the son
gleaming in that stained glass
scarred flesh and splinters flash
rising ever from the ash. 

Faith Nostbakken © 31/07/2019

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