Something shattered into pieces,
Someone crushed them under foot.
Somewhere the scattered pieces lay,
Somewhen, long overlooked.
Somewhen, an artist found them,
Somehow he scooped them up;
Someone loved with tender hands
Something I had given up.
Something forms beneath the artist’s touch:
Mosaic full of grace.
Someone else would never think to make
Beauty from things debased.
Somehow shattered lives transform
From shards to something new.
Someday, perhaps, I’ll understand
The artist’s point of view.