Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 2, 2017

Jigsaw~by Karen King




He laid out the pieces of the jigsaw
As if he were laying out his life;
One piece at a time.
It all made sense.
The corners, the edges,
Then the middle.
Match the colours,
Match the shape.
It was all so simple.
It all made sense.
Thomas the Tank appeared
From the edge of the black smoke
And the Fat Controller
Stood there, laughing.
The boy was two.

He puts the jigsaw on his workbench,
Wood surrounding him.
He is building a unit.
The plan is in his mind
And he is putting his mind
Into action as he cuts each piece
With his new power tool.
If only life were so simple.
Each piece of wood is
Lovingly created
Until his masterpiece is formed.
The boy is fifteen.

Life is a jigsaw and he still
Can’t piece it together.
He prefers to
Create his own world,
For it makes more sense.
My boy will continue to
Create with his own jigsaw
Until all the pieces of his work
And all the pieces of his life
Become one.

Karen King Copyright 1 April 2017


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