I don’t want to count the
days , months and years
your absence has filled this room
the seasons do not even mind
the stormy wind that shakes
the splendid leaves in fall,
the parched road that gapes
its vein to yearn rain in summer
the blizzard that pales
the vales in winter
nor the yanking rain to cause
the cherry blossoms to stumble
upon the ground in spring.

They continue to come bringing
new surprises in spite of what was lost
If we were meant to be separated
by distances and time, then in between
the spaces and the passing hour
are nightly starry skies to watch
us over the roof of hope
though the wall falls off
bricks by bricks and its color peels,
paint by paint
New stacks of promises
patch the eroded corner
and the vanishing middle.

Like a carpenter who wants to build
a new one and fix the salvageable old
Then stories are completed
and no one has noticed the weathered
portions…

For the heart roars with poetry when it hits a turning point…~mtg

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