Pieces scattered across the table,
some edges sharp, others worn.
Colors clash and blend,
moments frozen in fragmented shapes.
I search for connections,
turning memories over in my hands.
Some pieces fit easily,
others wait for their time,
their place unknown.
The picture emerges slowly,
not as I imagined,
but as it was meant to be.
Each piece,
essential.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem