Sometimes a poem says the things I can say no other way.
The pieces can be made of anything
A little glass,
A little flesh,
A little cloth,
No, sorry…not that one–
But it really doesn’t matter,
What the pieces are made of.
It really doesn’t matter if they’re forged over millennia or days…
Sometimes those pieces fit,
Just like salt and water create an ocean,
And cycle through the rhythm of life.
Some puzzles work just the same.
The water becomes the cloud…
Travelling the Earth, gathering, learning, growing…
Time after time, after time…
Because some puzzles are meant to be solved…
Some pieces are meant to create a whole…
Some solutions always find each other