Often when her house is tidy
with the floors all clean and swept
she will slip into a back room
where the broken things are kept.
There she stands amid the clutter
of the puzzles, games and dolls
feels an inner sadness welling
as the tears begin to fall
on her knees to sort and gather –
finds a Ken who has no arms
someone’s pulled the head off Barbie
here’s a bracelet with no charms.
Dolly’s buggy wheel is missing
puzzle pieces need a frame
happy endings ripped from stories
dice and tokens but no game.
So she gathers parts and pieces
seeking one or two to fit.
But the chaos is too hopeless.
How does she make sense of it?
Then she feels the gentle presence
of His hands upon her own.
They are putting things together
better than she’s ever done.
There’s a piece – it goes with this one
here’s an arm, a leg, a face
there’s the ending of a story
here’s a picture of that place.
Oh how fast an hour passes
as they put a few things right
she may come again tomorrow
even slip back in tonight.
There is still so much to sort through.
Will she ever get it done?
“Do not fret my child, I’ll help you.
You and I have well begun.”
© 2009 by Violet Nesdoly
This poem is published in our poetry club’s anthology, River of Words.
It is linked at One Shot Wednesday Week 48.