Selective matter

Oh- those happenstance meetings
Akin, how scraped paper does float
Landing most abruptly place to place
Sometimes only but for a moment
Others, seemingly more indefinitely
Ever subject to unseen changing winds
And merciless unpredictable weather
We skid, slid, bounce and smash into
The ruins of shattered broken things
Tossed away when no longer palatable
We epitomize those roles- as people
Like beloved paper hearts, disowned
Ripped out from love's used booklet
Tumbling blind into multiple of lives
In remote or other exotic destinations
Sometimes we go unnoticed and still
Others, we’re centric of their crises
Swept up against some preverbal fence
Someway we mesh, near seamlessly
Forgetting we’re still used paper hearts
As if somehow we’d always been there
Amidst a dark background of silence
Caught up on some bits and fragments
But of someones else's broken pieces
Hearts, dreams or within turbulence
Suddenly you’ve come front and center
As your unwantedness eases away
You’re feeling that renewed worth
And that comfortableness starts to fit
Forgetting still our own vulnerability
And our former past life of events
We laugh and embrace the sun rays
Enjoy those brief scattered showers
The pleasing scent of spring flowers
Life- has never felt like such a blessing
And just like that, we’re uprooted
Cruel reminds of our ended season
Time has past as we were oblivious
And now we’re back traversing again
To those former roles as, paper hearts
Unneeded, tumbling while...withering

Poet of the Light © 2020