Die-Cut - edit

[dukealien]

edit;


Lives are made of jigsaw pieces–
fresh events, late recollections–
chronicles of things that happened,
schemes and dreams that never did.

As life’s moments fall and scatter,
future gray turns present-colored
flashing opportunities to fathom
where each fits within one’s past.

Rarely, there’s a straight-cut border
or a corner marking limits;
otherwise it joins a slack-pile
judged by color, image, kind– 

yet the long-sought part may turn out
not to be a future fortune
but a person once discarded,
for her color or his shape.

In the end some puzzle-pilgrims
know beforehand what their final
panorama will portray:
they saw the box-top, read the Book.

Others will evade a closing
comprehension of the image
they’ve assembled – yet all finish
for no life ends incomplete.

---

Thanks to all critics - I didn't mean to leave this one out there that long, but there was a slight medical moment.  Always a good excuse...  And the accumulated critiques are very rewarding.

I've tried to work in as much of the criticism as possible, but stuck with blank verse and the final line - knowing both are disliked by many.  I still think the line has its place (maybe not in this poem, though).