The wreckage of Longing

Find me in the wreckage of longing

But by the time I am found

I will have built a garden only you and I can see

I will have fashioned it from the joy and pain within me

All cultivated by the presence and absence of you

I will have learned the language and rhythm of a gardener

I will have mastered every single of his skills

This garden will know the color of your name

The flowers will hear the auditory bliss that permeates when your name is spoken

The flowers will know the agony and weight of your absence

The joy of your existence

The joy of seeing you again

The joy of knowing your name

But all of this joy and pain they experience

Does not compare to the bliss and pain that I feel

I am caught in this wreckage of longing

Destined to be a gardener without rain or sun