To Know Night From Day

When I grieve with you
it is only half truth
because I am living proof
in the transformative nature
of sadness, sorrow, struggle, pain.
Please don't think me aloof
for I know the untested contented
will never awaken to being saved.
Never be shown mercy for the wretched
with a white flag surrender
I am certainly no contender
to question perfection of
spontaneous grace and the
beauty of getting through this.
Me, an old tin cup, dented.
Demented, unable to see or speak.
Barely able to show my
          unrecognizable face
My eyes have been replaced
So, I have faith in your transformation
Sometimes the fall cannot
                          come soon enough
You will see when you call out
instead of calling perfection's bluff.
To known pain is to know
                             night from day.
There is no time to waste
Pick yourself up, dust yourself off.
Now. Make haste.