Broken Parts

I want to see the world in broken parts:
These pieces only seem a wholeness when
a mind (which fears the mystical) is bent
on neat abstractions. Oh, to have a heart
that loves the littleness instead! A hand
to hold the pieces – pure as incomplete;
to see in brokenness an unknown plan,
in fragmentation joy and not defeat;
a peace to love small things in idleness
without the lusting drive to seize, convert
and mould mysterious things to my own shape;
to be content with glimpses, and to rest
in half-veiled truths – though unexplained, not less

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