|Bottles Broken & Beautiful|
There was a grave lined in black lava rock with a headstone of black granite. The waist high black walls were filled up with broken glass.
Porous black rock culled from a volcano & glass shaped by fire.
Broken beer bottles.
Broken wine bottles.
Broken soda bottles.
Broken window louvers.
(broken love &
broken tears &
broken promises )
It was beautiful ~ broken shards of glass & laughter lost.
The colors glittered in the fading sunlight.
The pieces broken in geometric shapes.
The love weeping from the ground.
But what kind of love is this?
This sharp jagged edges of bits & pieces?
Had death fractured their love?
Leaving them behind?
What anger did they harbor in their hearts as they shattered piece after piece?
Why did their love cut at them with tiny little pointy edges?
How many times had they bled to break all that glass?
When will whoever was bleeding from the love of this person, give over to forgiveness & healing?
(I hope when I finally have the grace to die, that those who love me will have had enough time & wisdom to forgive me for being human & let the grasses grow over me & take me home.)
With Love & Delicious deaths ~