Loosely tethered wishing bonds knowing not

To be, stargazing filled yet empty, glad,

Sad, too.  Too sweet the cup not drunk, shattered

Shards I daily reconstruct, a puzzle

I pour myself over.  Be the pieces,

I want, always to want, accept, except

These hands embracing air, I wish to be

Absorbed in pieces, reconstructed me,  

Servant, friend, advisor, for any role

This humble thespian his hour upon

Spends whatever seconds grateful to play

Cast and not cast away.  The empty cup

Held dear, between the cracks clearly showing

Clarity reflected there, glinting, pure

Unsure, the ghost of loneliness remains, 

Though One with mine, by choice alone.  With choice

Comfort I tie the warm wine of heart, fit

Shards into a shape that infers a cup, 

Drinking completely the emptiness up.