We don’t talk enough about disappointment,
Being disappointing and disappointed—
Such integral elements of being human
So often swept under the rug
Cry out from beneath our many coverings.
We’re taught to grin and bear it,
Pretend everything is fine
Until a small tear becomes a rift
And the whole relationship—
Like things—becomes disposable.
But couldn’t it also be
That the tear, once revealed
Becomes the thing that binds—
The disappointed and the disappointing
Invited over and over again
To surrender perfection
For the sake of real human love.
A love that knows not
When the next tear will appear,
Or the next rift threaten—
Only that it surely will—and still,
We’ll choose to stay and bless
The merciful ground
On which we stand,