The vase

was bought for a fair value


The price

love, hate, joy and tears

years


trials and tributaries

veins filled to the brim


Now the vase

has been knocked

from its base


It’s still ours

as long as it does not reach the floor

If it reaches the floor

A million pieces it will become


There’s a time and a place

to catch that vase

to stop the fall

but the heart is weak

the mind is wicked and belligerent and confused


If the vase can not be caught

all will be alone until it is reborn

the wheel will roll hard and fast

from its foundation

no longer producing

what it produced

for a decade of holiday seasons


Oh folly of the mind

why do you sweep the pieces up from the floor

when they were safely in your hands

now they've crashed into earth and life

clearly sailing to the bottom of the well

no longer able to breathe in our hearts.