Broken Bottles Poem by Javier Zamorano

Today I went to my Grandmothers house.
So beautiful is this life.
When my Grandmother moved on
in the hands of Jesus
another mother smiled and took her place.
I am a part of something so beautiful
I do not always understand.
In my Grandmothers house are empty bottles.
They do not like the way the wind makes them feel
these spirits they would kill
the fullness of those who love them.
I love them-even when they are empty.
I have witnessed love turned bitter
in the midst of winter
there are no winners
when time becomes lonely and distracted with emotion
I will sit and cry with you as long as you would like me to
I know it is love you would do
to sit and cry with me as long as the oceans break
or until these bottles break.