A beating heart made to cling
comfort warm silky, if but that proverbial hanger
enclosed by some fluff
a sock or synthetic fabric
a ribbon she wore in her hair
could fill the deep well carved by nature
never replenished by nurture
what happens to a child who has never been embraced
inside a parent’s heart or brain?
searching, always seeking meaning
connection
the child knows he must belong
to something, to somebody
and yet
no one can come close
not close enough
to heal the cracking ache
the longing to belong
a long distance runner
always hope a rubber cement for
countless shattered illusions
the real bounces forward
and embraces the fractured heart
as a possible reality
that is acceptable
despite the dotted lines lying empty
in the family photo frame
no holiday dinners, no birthday cards
a lack of stories or memories to share
or someone with whom to share them
the lonely child is a stalwart adult
courage
creates
necessity
for out of life comes love
nonetheless
adamevenevenadam 