“Gather up the fragments,
that nothing be lost”—
so even crumbs
become a silo of abundance.
The night keeps count
of every restless turning,
each tear stoppered
in an unseen flask,
as if sorrow itself
were vintage,
kept for the day of pouring.
What we labour for,
though hidden,
is never in vain—
the soil remembers
every hand that tills it,
every seed pressed down
into the dark.
And in the end,
all things are braided—
loss and gain,
silence and song—
woven toward a good
we glimpse only in part,
yet trust as whole.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 13th, 2025 06:31
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 35
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Bella Shepard, Priya Tomar
Offline)
Comments5
Matthew 10:29-31, which states: "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father's will." comes to mind. A wonderful write Cryptic that speaks of the importance of everything and how they are linked to nature's memory in that one thing can not happen without affecting something else. Loved it
Sorren, you stole my thunder! But it wasn\'t mine...
Friend, this is sacred in its quiet…a prayer stitched in fragments. The tenderness of “crumbs becoming abundance” stopped me cold. Hope and loss braided perfectly. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Good write A. Some spiritual things here too - cues for more hymn-poems from me? Yes, as long as I don't sing/screech 'em, they say! lol.
"gather up the fragments that remain, that nothing be lost", a reminder that we are stewards of this world, that nothing be wasted or squandered, for all that we are fortunate enough to have is precious. A beautiful lesson, told beautifully in this exquisite poem. Everything to love here!
So great !
A fave....
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.