Torn

Torn

I’m torn apart,
But I’m not angry.
I sing to them from across the field.
I know my place,
But I’m still lonely.

I lay in the grass and draw their big smiling faces,
But they don’t see me,
They don’t hear me,
The song too loud,
The faces reflected too proud.
But I know my place.
Someday I’ll know my name.
Someday.

Cross-legged I watch the clouds drift,
Like me.
I dream of a hand brushing lightly across my shoulder
In passing, always in passing,
Like the drifting clouds
And their shadows that I chase till I fall down, breathless, laughing.
All like a dream I’ve yet to have,
But I’m not angry,
I’m much too busy catching them before they fall.

Such a bother, like children lost in the dark.
I follow their laughter to find them
Before they slip away again.
Out of sight, out of mind,
It makes me laugh,
But I’m not angry
And these aren’t tears.

I know my place.
I know my time.
I know loneliness, it covers me like morning rime,
But I’m not angry
And these aren’t tears,
Cause once in a while
He comes by to hold me up.
He holds me up
For a moment
Then like the cloud drifting by,
A familiar hand across my shoulder.

For a moment,
Then the shadow of the cloud passes
Racing across the field, I chase them, till I fall
Breathlessly laughing,
Tears in my eyes,
But I’m not angry,
Cause I know every word,
See every color,
Hear every tone,
And I know it won’t be long.

The sun will rise
And I won’t have to sing alone.
I’m not angry.
I’m torn apart.
I’m grateful.
I’m ready.

Let’s begin.