The rock where you stand is cold, and it’s desolate;
How many times have I stood in that place?
I know the mistrust in your eyes, the hesitation in your smile,
How your heart pounds out a litany of questions,
And pain expands your lungs with every breath.

Solitary is the path walked by the broken-hearted;
Where bodies draw inward to protect wounded souls,
Where scar tissue grows thick beneath endless granite skies,
Where simple pleasantries are stopped at the door
And melodies are silenced.

You offered your life, your love, your world,
Gifts that were neither wanted nor deserved.
So you clutch tattered shreds of brightly colored papers,
Knowing you threw the prize after a dream
That would never come true.

But look up, dear friend, look to the sky and see
The silvery moon softly smiling to light your way
Until the sun reaches down and warms your tear-stained face.
Fluttering leaves scatter your cries to the wind
And the universe calls you home.

Take another step; that rock beneath your feet
Was built layer by layer, made substantial
By those who walked the solitary path before you,
Just as you now pave the way for those
Who will arrive in their time.

And that aching heart, ever faithful, ever hopeful,
Still pushes life through the tributaries
That keep your river’s current flowing fast and strong.
That’s you, my friend: more than strong enough
To weather the storm.

Put these memories in a photograph album;
Keep them in a chest of fragrant cedar–
In time this pain will pass into the world of shadows
And in its place will be your reward;
All you ever wanted.




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