recycler's elegy

There is a secret warehouse where I collect old tired things

They assemble from all over and they show me their dreams

When they tell me of their troubles, I can see the years of pain

I can see the cracks and crannies, the abuse and the mundane

I can chip away at troubles, give them spark within my heart

They arise, awakened, startled into a new and joyful art

Tell me how I can help you, what new shape you wish to take?

Show me how you get to freedom from the aches and constant fears?

Take my hand and guide my passion, let me breathe new life in you

Take my strength and my compassion then go live your life anew.

- 2015