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Labor of Love

because we have felt the darkness creeping or else sweeping through our aching bones

lungs filling with a smoke that chokes brain swelling or swirling with the blackest storm

raging or else crying silently dying killing the light once shone so bright inside our souls

because we have seen the darkest nights during the sunrise because waking up is sometimes the hardest thing because just existing is a labor of love

the soul ties and love lines engraved in our war-torn faces

the gray hairs of work and thought each one losing color as we try and try

hands dry cracked like a desert stinging, even, with the pain of the day

because because because our darkness must be the cause

NOW we know the weight of the world not by genuine experience no we do not ourselves touch the deepest pains live the hardest lives

but it seems for just one moment we've felt all of the dark rise like midnight in our eyes

BECAUSE of this we feel, now in each other we see we know just how deep all pain can go

just how high just how long just how wide

and that those reaches are not too far for the light

NEVER TOO FAR for the light

and we may have power to grasp

just how wide just how long just how high just how deep

there is love and light for us

who once knew and, even now, know the might of the dark can now show the might of the light

our lives now a labor of love that by one drop of waking up of showing up of the given up we might shine just enough

the one drop may be enough


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