Dreaming of Silver Roses

I bring her nothing but broken pieces

The scattered shards, I lay at her feet.

She never winces or shudders at them.

She takes my hand; we sort through the heap.

 

And I weep sometimes at the lack  inside me.

She pulls me close and takes her seat.

“Joy” she says, “that is what you bring me.”

I bring her all that I have of me.

 

I have never traveled over an ocean.

She has gone from sea to deep blue sea.

I’ve never felt polished or accomplished

Until with pride, she spoke hope into me.

 

And I weep sometimes to think of all that’s missing.

Until I laugh with her and I’m complete.

“Joy” she says, “that is what you bring me.”

I smile and bring her all I have of me.

Filed under: life, poetry, relating well, wonder on October 15th, 2009