Sometimes, a faint crack appears, and threatens a fragile surface.
that space between two sides, two forces...is never an easy spot.
Standing there long moments figuring out the mending the patching up the giving of light to minds, darkened by rage and confusion; spreading your arms wide to convince, to encourage, so both sides may soften...reach out to each other...to diffuse tension, to melt the ice that freezes good energy, to let the warmth invade, and make the connection last.
Ahh, the process is so tiresome at times...enthusiasm is numbed.
When aging limbs grow weaker, it becomes wearisome to repair creviced connections, to be a bridge for those who prefer to be apart.
Sometimes, it's best at times, to let islands remain islands. they may be better off isolated, at peace when they're on their own.