Broken Swingset Poem by Stephen Thomas

When the sun meets the land
And all things turn gold,
Then, will I smile -
Will I attempt to turn
And like an early morning's dew
Saturate the soul of another

Like a flower late in bloom -
Will it's pollen find a bee to be it's own?
Lets hope so
Because I may need more mercy than I had thought.
And how sweet it will be
Like honey
Passed from the lips of a tree
Where for so long I would stand
Carving your name next to mine
(How steady it seems
These hands would need to be to capture you)

My eyes follow patterns
Searching every inch, every scar.
They run along the trunk
And branch toward the sky
Striving to find that yellow-gold
With a hint of orange -
A melody of colors to assure me
The sun has met the land
And with both hands held tightly
To my lips, I will stand
Let the vines weave their way
And hold me still
To remind me I am not my own
Like the pod of a pea -
I may be a home
But my spirit is what is real

And as my carving takes shape
I pray it will grow along with me
From initials evolve pictures
Paint reality
So my veins may pump again
And I will shine like the dawn
For it is the only thing that saves
The sun has met the land
And I will love again