There is just something about a brick wall that has always felt very symbolic to me, partly because I know that bricks are laid one by one, with care taken to line them properly and to apply the cement in just the right amount so that it is strong, attractive and protective.
I look at the bricks as if they are words and actions, placed one on top of other, over time, which can create either a wall of protection or a wall FOR protection . I have built this wall for protection, guarding my heart for so long, only letting my guard down just enough to see if it felt safe and secure, giving the tiniest glimpses to those that have earned a smidgen of my trust.
I have learned, though, that while I was protecting my own self, others were standing on the other side, chipping away and trying to bring down the wall, one word, one brick at a time…. and I felt myself begin to tip toe over to the ragged edge and to wonder if I could dare let the wall come tumbling down.
Then I realized that I could not. … not yet , anyway.
Up against
Brick walls
I stand tall
Enough
to see
flowers
growing
on the other side
watered well
with words
while here
the ground’s
been neglected
thirsting
to be filled
Enough
to overflow
once again
bloom
wildflowers
as far as the eye
can see
from the
wall
Sometimes, a wall has to be torn down the same way it was built, carefully, one brick at a time. 💜
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