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"Broken" --- a poem


NO1GR8r

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When I first met her

she came to me like a

caged bird with a song in her heart

and a spirit like a butterfly

free flowing from

flower to flower...

Beautiful and life giving

with breath taking power

in her wings -

with a dark and tortured past.

A past that would soon return

to sabotage one of her wings.

 

And I,

the man with a childlike spirit,

and hope, will be there

because I carry Elmer's glue

for such occasions.

 

I will be there

So that when I find said

broken butterfly

I can fix her wing.

Bond her spirit to her broken body...

throw her up to God

with hope that he would fix her.

Fate would have me only

witness her disappointing decent

back to earth still broken

but full of life.

 

See, what I learned was

the Elmer's glue used

to hold her spirit intact

was failing her.

It wasn't allowing her back

into heaven in the condition

she was in.

Her spirit had been broken by too many

failed attempts at love, patience

and forgiveness.

 

Until I began to care for her,

I didn't know that her life was

a periodical of pain

in need of purging in pursuit of pleasure

while forsaking praise from the palates of angels -

this will be the truth of her.

The truth that will allow she

to see

that her wing

was indeed

broken.

 

No matter how much glue I put on her broken wing,

no matter how close I threw her to God,

she refused to fly.

And her song sought sanctuary

from the sinister solitude

of her cage that scavengers

would sit silently

sifting through her spirit

in search of something selfishly

to steal from her soul.

 

They waited

and watched from the sidelines

for her to fail

and fall back to earth

broken and alone...

 

This is not the life that this

butterfly wants or needs.

 

Elmer won't satisfy her today.

She requires crazy glue.

An adhesive strong enough to

to withstand the pressure of flight

and the ability to hold her wings in place

while being a friend

and sounding board for her complaints

of failed attempts

at flight and freedom.

 

For her failed attempts at salvation and love.

For her success at the self destructive behavior

of flying too close to the sun -

that can only be fixed with time...

 

Time that we don't own but waste.

Time that is on loan and not ours to give.

Time that sets tones, breaks homes

and heals broken bones or feathers

so that she may seek faith to try to fly again...

on her own.

 

And next time,

when I throw her to the heavens...

I will pray as she leaves my hands

that God will catch her,

fix her wing

and help her to fly.

 

Until that moment comes,

I will hold her.

I will hold her

until I see trust and faith

courageously encouraging her

in her eyes.

I will hold her

precious and broken.

I will hold her

with Elmer's glue in hand

ready for the next idea

that leads her to believe that

she can fly

with only one wing.

 

I will encourage her -

empower her to believe

that she can try to do it...

against all logic and advice...

but even then, I will hold her

and let her know

that I will be there

to pick up the pieces

of her shattered dreams

and promises broken

- lost during flight

with a broken wing

Elmer's glue and faith.

 

I will be there.

 

"Broken" k/d/morris © 2007

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spoken well my friend. You can tell that you were very much apart of trying to help your love. I just wish that she was there for you as well.

 

...she will be there for me...even if as a friend. I hope that this also helps you to be there for the love of your life as well.

k/d

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