Psyche’s jigsaw

In puzzled, plaintive ponderings,
the image sure was searched,
of Self as deep surrenderings;
the pieces, scattered, hurt.
Finding shapes which fitted,
to hold the picture clear,
was Soul’s allotted tasking,
to bring me into being.
It was not with understanding,
that all the work was done,
but finding the connections;
inserting one by one.
Through steady, slow selecting,
all would be found a place,
as psyche’s jigsaw was restored;
and I could see my face.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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