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Half
This I raise, my half empty glass.
You raise your half full one.
So they are…half.
I tried changing glasses.
Half empty consistently.
“So, show me how you hold it.”
“Here, take it, wrap your whole hand
around it.
Wrap your whole heart
around it.
Now, raise it above life’s happenings.
See how the light filters through it?”
“Yes, I see it.”
From down here the glass was fuller.
As the light broke on it
it illumined something in me.
It was then I saw her lift her
half full glass to God…
to offer Him a drink like
the woman at the well.
It was half full because it was
for someone else.
She raised it high.
I raised it only enough
to see my own reflection in it.
Like Narcissus only seeing myself.
Like many a drunk seeing only
themselves as their glass drains.
Now hope fills the difference.
Now my half empty glass runneth over.
Gerald the Writer 
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