The Glass

It is quiet now
Only sounds of startled breath

The glass lies quiety, soundlessly now,
shattered upon the stairs

Shining in the moonlight
An impression of diamonds from rain
It is dark
You are unable to see the tears, the pain

Urgently she gathers her children
Whispering quietly in their ears
It’s okay my darlings
Mother is here

She tucks them in bed
With a light kiss and a prayer
Hoping they won’t hear what is said
The words upon the stairs

Days pass and the glass is replaced
Only its shards left
Piercing hearts
Grief and sorrow fill its space

Years pass and the glass is replaced again
For the hearts that broke it
Bring the sadness to an end

Forgivness and grief
Mourning years gone by

Gratitude and relief
For the love left to try

The glass has no lines or ripples or cracks
The glass is now whole
The children intact

It is true my darlings
That mother was near
As an angel she whispered in our ear

Glass cannot break you, my dears
Look closely upon it and through it you will see
You are whole again
The very special family, you see

My love goes with you
Put your hands upon the glass
My love goes with you
Let go of the past.

Poet’s Note
A short poem about rebuilding a family after years of hurt.

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 2.50 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?


Signup / Login to follow the poet.
I am so glad you are here. Please make yourself at home, here, next to the arm-chair. Let us talk of poetry and life; let us laugh and crack jokes; let us rule the world with our lofty thoughts and electrodes for those out of line.Most likely I will pee a little when we laugh, and my thoughts are usually random rather than lofty, but you know what they say: “The dog of the exceptional wisdom has the bird of sleeping monkeys in his dreams!”Anyway, I was talking to a guy the other day who was high on pot (he was standing on the toilet) and I mentioned my fear of bush hogs and roaches. He comforted me and then asked why I was in the stall with him.So there you go, my full life story nowhere on this page. I feel like we know each other so much better now. Sometimes I’m serious, sometimes I seriously funny, sometimes I’m seriously gassy. I am at all times grateful for your support.If you have an idea to share, or just want to drop a line, you can contact me at peanuttyoh@yahoo.comBe excellent to each other and glitter on glitterbombs.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

Be the First to Comment & Review poem!

Notify of

Spotted In Glass

Spotted In Glass short poem

Perfect bridges for a fading light taking you to dark caves like fireclay in fake sorrows. The superstition of a race pool and unearthing the sacred temple under a mount of lies. In vitro a baby god sleeps waiting for

Broken Glass

Broken Glass prose poem

BROKEN GLASS Standing here in front of me Are many pieces before me Looking down all I see Are different colored pieces Of what was me Broken, shattered and scattered Use to resemble me The glass I see before me

The Man In The Glass

The Man In The Glass prose poem

Looking in the glass I saw a fine young man Was it him only I was searching for a long span He never laughed at me when I cried He always smiled at me when I smiled He stood with

The Glass House

The Glass House short poem

Not yet, the courage will wait for the curtain to fall, will then disappear in awakening; the crucial thing was the love of absence the scythe of eclipsed moon. Suspense hangs from the tall image in slow turn of thighs


Glass short poem

the first is touch losing touch sense of touch losing softness losing abrasions… in dark amputation… this is how it was, my mother did not die, just detached, gradually less tenuously linked to life, until there was no link… now