What if each person
Who looks at us
Even just sees an image we chose
to capture
in space and time
in a photograph.
Maintains our existence...
Then add another
Who reads our name
Much less takes time to think
Or speak aloud a sentiment about us
Keeps us walking around
And it was that person or those people
Who brought about a dramatic shift
From feeling hopelessness to inexplicable hope
When we say
I choose not to give up.
I may not know why, but I will keep trying.
Was it you?
Have you ever thought that
Perhaps this is what is meant
by the power
of prayer
Or the strength spoken of
in two or more gathered together
in my name...
Lately I feel alone
And sense I am not
Even if it takes an hour of tears
And an hour of silence
to get through to me...
We allow others to bring us down
But this means
We can choose others to hold us up
in their place.
Three years ago I smashed an urn
Containing ashes of who I thought one man
in my life was
Three years ago a man posing as a true love
in my life
Handed me an urn
of ashes
The man he stopped being a year before
to me.
Leaving me completely speechless...
Until I decided "this is not mine"
And I remove the urn from the mantle
Throw the glass container hard
into the fireplace
Smashing it into pieces.
Wincing because I had not taken it outside
to destroy.
Today I find myself pulling out slivers of glass
from that day of rage
However the presense
of others out there somewhere now
Allows the process of removal
to hurt less
Because I have hope
That eventually the duration of time
I refer to as my bad days will stop.
