Poem (untitled) by Jan Richardson

Somewhere the sun has come
crashing down.

Look, the world is always ending somewhere.

Somewhere it has gone
completely dark.

Somewhere it has ended
with the gun, the knife, the fist.

Somewhere it has ended
with the slammed door, the shattered hope.

Somewhere it has ended
with the utter quiet that follows the news from the phone, 

the television, the hospital room.

Somewhere it has ended
with a tenderness that will break
your heart.

But, listen, this blessing means
to be anything but morose.

It has not come to cause despair.

It is simply here because there is nothing a blessing 

is better suited for than an ending, 

nothing that cries out more for a blessing than 

when a world is falling apart.

This blessing will not fix you, will not mend you, 

will not give you false comfort; it will not talk to you 

about one door opening when another one closes.

It will simply sit itself beside you among the shards 

and gently turn your face toward the direction from 

which the light will come, gathering itself about you 

as the world begins again.

~ Jan Richardson

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