David Bonifacio

As if my heart were not fragile
As if my soul could withstand
As if my mind were a fortess
As if my buttresses had no cracks
As if I could forever disdain
The effects of continuing pain
As if I could dig deeper, ever so deeper
Without bleeding myself dry
As if I could lose more to the needy
Without losing completely
The little I have now
The little that’s left of me
Now I must carry this too
The thought of a widow
Looking out her window
No longer hoping for hope
Just a statue passing the time
And the faces of two kids
Unawakened to the morning
When their mourning gives way
To the daily struggles and pain
Yet without preparation
Without a steady guide
Just one bucket after another
Of cold reality…

… But if You will let me rest
By the banks of still waters
And lead me to the safety
Of Your green pastures
I will find the strength I need,
And accept Your blood to bleed
To stain the thorny roses red
And water daffodils with tears