Meditation on Life's Broken Pieces

 Sometimes I feel my life’s fragments

Held limp in my empty hands,

Like crumbs falling through open fingers,

Like shreds of an old garment that no longer covers,

But, threadbare, exposes - refusing to shield,

Giving way to weakness.

Where are the threads of grace?

The hopeful shards,

Scattered among the pieces?

Where is the glimmer of love,

That might peek through the cobwebs of my soul?

In these dislocated parts,

These almost discarded, broken fragments,

There may be the needed elements

To be re-created.

To be made whole

Oh I do hope so.