Life's Vase
Life
Life is often
Like a shattered vase
On the tile floor
Scattered fragments
With jagged edges
Clinging to the floor
In a puddle of water
All it takes is one nudge
One careless bump
One poor choice
Sends it spiraling down
Scrambling to fix it
Fingers brushing glass
Pain erupting along your hand
Glowing red-hot pain
You wish you could fix it
Hold it together
Cover it in tape
You wish
With sore hands, you walk
To the sink
Running hands under the tap
Pain smarting in your palms
Finally, with bandaged hands
And a sore heart
You sweep up the broken fragments
Into a little pan
Slowly
you paste
The little shards back into place
Filling the cracks
It doesn’t happen overnight
But after a while
You no longer remember that it was broken
It looks almost the same
The cracks do show
But the vase holds
Standing proudly in the window
Holding firm to the sill
And the marks on your hands
They fade
And you almost forget the pain
And the vase remains
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