Like mountain ranges

Like mountain ranges
The calluses of your hand
Paint a picture.

They tell stories of fist fights
Things that were not right
All of those long nights
That keep you from sleeping.

Like tension of an arrow on a bow
Your shoulders unrelaxed
Inescapably stiff.

Joints sore and unattended to
Never giving yourself a break
Never releasing.

And your eyes
Look lifeless and dark
As if a well has run dry.

It hasn’t been filled with life
Or hope
In quite a long, long time.

Take time to study your mountains,
Know how they have formed.
Release all those arrows,
That you have kept stored.
And don’t forget to restore the well
To overflow once more.

Because even broken, tired people,
Deserve so much more.