I Fall to Pieces…
I fall to pieces every day,
I fall to pieces every night,
The maker reassembles me
Although the joins are never tight
Pieces cobbled from the past
Which never worked as well as should,
Soul the Craftsman made to last
Which by the spirit of Him stood
I am made provisional
Form unfinished and re-made,
Purposeful, improbable
A solid image that must fade
When I break and decompose
The maker gathers the debris,
Flesh and bone are merely clothes
The spirit gathers me
Pavel
July 8, 2011
