A mirror sits still, reflecting time.

Raising questions without answers.

Where will fate lead my steps?

Will she once more tear her gown,

The fabric of space to erase a frown?

Or will a lamb become a lion? fierce and unrestrained.

Regardless of the path that’s made.

We’ll see it to the end.

 

A jigsaw sits upon a table. Desperate for completion.

And yet, undone it tells a tale,

a picture still is shown

For boldly have the pieces fit. 

Making a picture of their own.

For truly we’re all pieces we, taken from different boxes.

With different shapes

and different hues

and different stories to our names.

Yet in our difference here it shines,

A clashing image made.

For boldly have these puzzle pieces 

paved their own new way.

 

Here the hues run underground

neath foot and shoe and soul.

Some old some new and some reborn

these shades connect us all.

To keep from twisting, knots and tears

we all must do our part.

For when we see and hear and care

that’s when the hues make art.