A million pieces of my soul
scattered on the floor.
A thousand shards of glass
that once held my hopes, my dreams, and more.
But, with caring eyes
and guiding hands
with a loving heart
which understands
the task before me begins to unfold
Slowly
ever slowly,
So painstakingly slow.
Each piece is matched to its counterpart
Seamlessly so
The scars of ages past
appear to fade.
A new life is born
as if once again formed by the makers fire
Each wound is washed away.
Every tear is allowed to fall
Each question is given an answer
Each riddle given a clue.
And the blood stained world
of a once hurt child
is washed away
and made new.
Author's note: This was written in 2006 as an answer to the prior poem (which was written in 1997). Thank you for being a supportive audience.