Mediha F. Saliba

Back Where You Belong

I have often wondered
when my sister
would forgive me for
following my dream
instead of hers.

On nights when the moon
was a dark orb in a darker sky
I could feel her energy
visit my back deck
leaving sharp shards
of anger and hurt.

Sadly, I’d go out
on heavy summer nights
and snow dusted winters
to gather the sparking shards
of red, orange, and yellows.
Carefully I placed them in
a stone box, knowing
some day I would have
enough.

Enough finally came. Eventually,
all feelings must return to 
their source, so I took the stone 
box to the glassblower, who 
crushed and melted
the reds, orange, and yellows
and blew them into an
ornament of light
for me to send to my sister.

Since then, my sadness
has lifted and the shards
that still collect on my deck
turn to butterflies in the 
summer wind, and prisms of
rainbows in the snowflakes
of winter.