As a child I felt obscure, to others I did not
Exist, until I even lost sight of myself within,
Dismissing my needs, becoming divided,
Seeking a child too fearful to speak
The Glass Child
I see her face to face, I
Cannot touch her in the
Glassy light
Reaching to me, she then fades away
Weaving between two separate lives
Transparent once more, her red
Heart shattered in bright pieces, is
This mystery child!
Black beads for eyes, crystal tears
She cries, pink porcelain lips unable
To speak
Dressed in black mourning, in disguise
Then as a mannequin she slowly turns
Another face appears
They are attached!
A child with the face of a clock with
Numerals and hands of gold
A pendulum swinging side to
Side, announcing the threshold
Of the hour
I looked at her in shock, she had
A mechanical brain and
Wrinkled skin, aged from carrying
Too much time on her back
Her feet wrapped in chains
Each time the clock struck,
Vibrating between herself and
Herself
How can this glass child be freed?
Where is the key to stop this
Perpetual clock that it may be
Stopped?
She did not know she had the key
In the very bottom of her heart, a
Part that had not been broken
But to tell her this she becomes
Remiss
The shadows that have gathered
From the ancient depths, spin
Their heads in glee, they are
Sure they have this child in their
Grip, in her prison of misery
But they do not know this heavenly
Truth –
“For now we see through a glass
Dimly, but then face to face,
Now we know in part, then we shall
Know fully, even as we are fully
Known”
1 Corinthians 13:12
In God’s Word
Copyright 2015 revised DN
Donna's Poetry Blog 