designed and crafted by a masterful hand
a finely tuned cello, no one played
she was, a candlelight dinner marinated for years
reserved to a table without a chair
protected from tears, a heart worn on a sleeve
with an umbrella made of paper Mache
a shooting star crossing a shrouded night
as pointless, a letter left unread
a ballerina exhumed from an aged music box
then discarded for the contents within
an empty pew would have made the same difference
if at the end of a road less traveled instead
a painted egg behind a childhood swing
the one that hadn't been found
a dusted book discovered from a second shelf nook
returned before the pages had been read
he was, a singing bird, without as much as a word
released for the two that had not made a sound
a diamond unclaimed, hocked for more of the same
should have been on your finger instead
and sometimes we gaze at neutrality
the blue sky is neither good nor bad
to balance ourselves with that which we know
with that which we don't understand
to level a world which is round and uneven
when views blur the edge between waters and sand
as well is the peace of resign in daydreaming
as well is the calming of holding your hand