156/365: You Will Be Loved Again

Elan Morgan

You will be loved again.
You will not be lost,
forgotten at the back of an old garden shed
like that doll you found,
the one with the matted hair
and a girl's name hand-stitched into her cloth back,
tangled into her dress's rusted clasp.
That small dress tore like dry paper,
but she was loved once,
so you pulled her from behind old jars
and smoothed the dirt from plastic eyelids
that no longer fluttered.

You will be loved again.
The universe does not forget itself.
It will dig you out,
its little, quiet, frightened piece,
and it will trace out the printing on your back with its finger.
It will find you.
It will come for you,
collect you, and count you,
and you will hear your name spoken,
not flat as though from a long list
but with rhythm and roundness,
the way it once came from the lips of those who knew you,
as it will come again from the lips of one who knows.

The universe does not forget itself.

I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.