What breaks me here is “until one day she could not meet him there.” Until then, everything can be rebuilt — a Lego world, a failed adventure, even a child’s shattered heart — because someone is there to help gather the pieces. Then suddenly the person who taught him how to rebuild is the one missing, and the room that once held the sky can no longer hold the same world. Beautiful and deeply painful.
I love how deeply you feel, Antonio. This is the entire essence of the poem, but I honestly didn’t know if I had taken it far enough. Thank you for sharing how it registered with you.
That beautiful, devastating image of a mother rebuilding a shattered heart "one Lego at a time" makes the quiet, hollow space left by her absence feel so incredibly heavy ✨
Dean, what an extraordinary compliment. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. This poem came more from a channeling experience than my own experience. But I felt the trueness of it from being a mom. Still, it’s the first time I’ve gone outside like that, so your comment means a tremendous amount, as they always do.
Thank you, Brian. Yes this is one of those poems I channeled as much as consciously wrote, and that line is one of the ones that came to and through me. It’s pretty great when that happens. Thanks for letting me know that it worked. It felt powerful to me as well.
Thank you, Brian. That’s one of those phases that came through me as much as to me. I loved it as well. Thank you for commenting on it. Those are special moments for me as I’m not the most “poetic” writer.
@Seajade im deeply grateful for the stack. Thank you. ☺️
you’re welcome 😊
What breaks me here is “until one day she could not meet him there.” Until then, everything can be rebuilt — a Lego world, a failed adventure, even a child’s shattered heart — because someone is there to help gather the pieces. Then suddenly the person who taught him how to rebuild is the one missing, and the room that once held the sky can no longer hold the same world. Beautiful and deeply painful.
I love how deeply you feel, Antonio. This is the entire essence of the poem, but I honestly didn’t know if I had taken it far enough. Thank you for sharing how it registered with you.
"his heart hollowed
away with the bloom
stolen
emptied of the room
that once held the sky"
Tragically beautiful. Nothing could describe loss for than these. words.
Thank you, Kelly.
That beautiful, devastating image of a mother rebuilding a shattered heart "one Lego at a time" makes the quiet, hollow space left by her absence feel so incredibly heavy ✨
Thank you, Brandi.
Oh Tracy this is so sentimental, now ou went into "my" domain of longing ... beautiful ...
Dean, what an extraordinary compliment. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. This poem came more from a channeling experience than my own experience. But I felt the trueness of it from being a mom. Still, it’s the first time I’ve gone outside like that, so your comment means a tremendous amount, as they always do.
Beautiful!
Thank you, Nora. I just read one of you poems. Consider me a fan.
Thank you! And please count me as one your fans!
So sad! Well captured
Thank you, Ray. I appreciate you commenting and thank you for restacking!
“…the room that once held the sky” Such a poignant way to describe the magnitude of that loss!
Thank you, Brian. Yes this is one of those poems I channeled as much as consciously wrote, and that line is one of the ones that came to and through me. It’s pretty great when that happens. Thanks for letting me know that it worked. It felt powerful to me as well.
“…the room that once held the sky” Such a poignant way to describe the magnitude of that loss!
Thank you, Brian. That’s one of those phases that came through me as much as to me. I loved it as well. Thank you for commenting on it. Those are special moments for me as I’m not the most “poetic” writer.
Evocative and powerful.
Thank you, Stephanie. This is one of the first ones I’ve written from outside my personal experience. I really appreciate your feedback.
I could not tell that this was outside your personal experience. I was right there with you envisioning the poem.
Thank you, Stephanie. It’s an interesting world we inhabit, isn’t. It’s good we have each other to relate.