by Elizabeth Hexberg
10/18/2011 / Poetry
Shards of broken glass, and more.
Littering
a concrete floor.
Every color.
Every shade.
Every shape of shattered made.
So cold, so dull and dirty
yet,
so much more,
lest we forget.
The Artist has a bigger view.
The brokenness of me and you.
Files the edges,
one by one.
Holds them up to catch the sun.
Piece by piece with Love and Sear.
Ever precious.
Ever dear.
Gentle rebirth of the soul.
A thousand shards to make us whole.
A lifetimes crafting to get right.
Lifted High to catch the Light.
To Shine with every wonder known,
when all the pieces find their Home.
I love The Lord,with all my heart, and am nothing,and have nothing, without Him.
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