Layered

Layered images
stacked together like tissue paper
who we are
we were
we will become
transparent, sliding through each other
opaque some days

the image of yesterday
different from today
different colors
highlights

The greatest of  us see them all
layered
pick the best one
bring it to the surface

let us stay in the image of what we are
show us the promise of who we could be
always remembering
that we we are layered
stacked on ourselves
like tissue paper

Stepping Stone

You see that empty garden?
Do you see that stepping stone?
the one that is broken
shining from feet that walked on top

Do you see that stout woman?
the flowers surrounded by weeds?
she is the caretaker
pulling weeds and stepping on broken stone day by day

no one knows that stone is broken
no one sees the fissure
they walk through to see the garden
to see the indian paintbrush, lilacs, lilies

They see white roses, carnations, snapdragons
they see sunlight bouncing off dewdrops
streams, spiderwebs
silver trails from snails

But no one sees the broken stone
Except You.

You came to the garden on a cloudy day
flowers drenched in fallen rain
there was no sunlight to pull out the color
just damp and cold, forcing You to hunch your shoulders

watch your step

on a day like that
Broken stones stand out

You will not tell the caretaker

You will pause, stoop down to feel the break
You will come back
You will see the stepping stone