Glass is shattered,
To a thousand pieces.
Picking them up one by one,
Being careful not to get cut.
Crying over the loss,
Not knowing what to do.
An angel whispers,
Keep them in a cherished spot.
One day, you will know what to do,
Follow your heart when you are ready.
Taking a breath, slow and steady,
Sitting with a jar of broken glass.
Laying out work cloth,
Hands put into gloves.
Fitting the shapes side by side,
Creating a pattern – stained glass emerges.
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IandThouReflections 