Sometimes I look and see that child in your eyes
Who believed his mother wise
and the source of all that love could deliver
Sometimes the teen who believed me only a fool
And my love was the greatest of lies.
Today I looked and saw a man
struggling just like me to find the pattern, master plan
that would make a treasured art mosaic
of all the broken pieces.
A new design another understands.
CC
You write so beautfully…. Thank you.
Thank you Angela…no idea how exciting it is to get a comment that isn’t Spam.