I’d rather bear a fractured heart
by Hayley Ann Solomon
If I was bathed in happiness, perfect in its glow,
I’d see the plight of others—but wouldn’t stop to know.
And herein lies the puzzle,
herein lies the key-
Perfection is not perfect
if it uplifts only me.
How can I bathe in happiness,
Fears and fancies fled
when the blood of a child soldier
drenches deep and dark stained red?
How can I smile,
my heart so light and free,
when half a world away –
a generation’s taught to flee?
What is comfort,
as there are women whipped for thought?
What my pride and careless ease as slaves are sold and bought?
If stop I did,
my happiness, too,
would dim,
for empathy, both gift and curse,
Is so oft cold and grim.
Yet… if I were happy
and looked not,
saw not,
My heart could not be whole,
The trio of my spirit,
the solace of my soul;
All that would be lost to me,
Oh, high, so high a price –
I cannot yearn for happiness
If it’s comfort is a vice.
So, its not happiness I seek….
For while there is injustice,
while there is intolerance,
while there is cruelty –
my joy would just be bleak.
What do I hope for?
I hope for change, for outrage, and for caring.
I dare the world to pause with Valentines day,
playstations and all that fuss.
Stop a moment,
look at us –
Where is our perspective,
where our soul?
Can we be happy
if our hearts are not whole?
Can our hearts not be fractured once we’ve begun?
I think not, I hope not.
I’d rather bear a fractured heart
than oh, an empty one.