Sometimes the elements play along
Spraying droplets on the windshield
While they mimic and manifest
The tucked away insides.
The little rhythm lets out a sigh
One that precariously hangs
In between a shatter and a shelter
“Are you mending a broken heart?”
One hears voices.
Heartbreaks are supposed to make one hallucinate
And hear the unsaid
The misty glass dons a symbolic guise
And a little voice that questions
Goes speechless
In a Good way, one can guess.
An arch of color springs up in the greys ahead
Just when the soul was supposed to shrink and shatter
It soars like a falcon
Spreading its wings.
Sometimes the cracks let in mysterious miracles
And what has to contract magically expands.
What’s an existence that didn’t love, didn’t lose?
What’s an existence that didn’t shatter?
The other turn of turmoil could transform into treasures
Meant to share, let go and revel.
So, listen up little voice that questions
It’s not broken. It is a breakthrough.
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