Pieces

I have a bunch of pieces before me,
They are scattered and confused across the floor.
Some of their edges are slightly worn
And the bright reds and purples are a little bit faded.

There's a piece for just about everything
All the angles of my life.
And I want so badly to figure out
How to piece them together.

We talk a lot about what it is to be whole.
To know God.  To love God.  To be happy.
But do we even know what any of that means anymore?

The pieces still lie scattered on the floor.

And everything else in the world comes first.
Comes before we even start to try
To bring the pieces together.
To become whole.

We save it for another day.