Puzzle of the Heart
Though fate appears a riddle yet unsolved,
Its edges blurred, its pieces hid from view,
By Nature’s grace my worldly needs resolved,
Her gifts like morning rain, both rich and true.
Yet in my heart love’s branches twist and break,
A garden bright but strangely bare of bloom;
Misread affections, words we can’t remake,
Bring shadows creeping through my inner room.
Some pattern weaves itself, unseen, unkind,
A cycle spun of silence, doubt, and fear;
And though my cup is full, it leaves behind
An echo where love’s music should appear.
If heaven grants me every other part,
Why must a puzzle still divide my heart?
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