Longing for that wink,
Whisper, sign, sigh.
Lofty ambition, lowly effectiveness
Strolls your soul through hell’s nightfall.
Yet hope flickers ever-real,
Tangible, almost touchable
If for nothing else than sustained existence
For what life is there without love?
To ache for completion
Even if for but a butterfly’s breath –
Gouges scars – that one may still feel alive
Even with the absence …
A Final Word…
Midnight and music and a day of writing add up to the perfect muse storm. Sometimes words must flow out of me. Tonight is one such moment. I looked up when I was finished writing this poem and did not raise an eyebrow when I noted the time – midnight. Seems late night musings will always be with me.
While I have not read over this poem a second time as yet, I feel pretty good about it. Most often, I cannot go back and look. That’s why I post them without a rewrite. That’s not to say I never go back to rework some of the wording, but that won’t happen for quite a while usually. The poem needs to sit in its raw form for a while, at least for me it does.