Shards

Just a poem that seems to fit the day.

Shards

Many, many shards,
slipping through my skin.
Light glistening on the angles,
each beautiful, each unique.
I can't grasp any of them,
and each try, cuts.
The prism of colors,
reflects as they fall.
More still break off,
and come into reach.
I want them, I think,
but I lie on the brink,
of my own chaos.
The pain, the beauty,
the shards cutting through,
cuts healing and renewing
as they fall on through.
-Robert L. Jackson III

Available in Shedding Layers of Ocean