White cottony fleeces against a crystal blue
Like dreams of the past, of a similar hue.
An obscure moon
A sad smile for what is lost
Yet assured of things
I envy you are not doomed forever.
The green park sprawling,
By silvery waters of the lake.
Ships looking on
Brooding, napping, sighing.
Secure in their moorings they slumber
The dangers of the oceans past,
They float and ease their aching frames
Of raw dangers and fresh toils.
A sea breeze rushes to greet me-
A friend so true from another time.
Silent universes coursing past,
They pour into lanes and are gone-
People with no time to stare
Headlong they meet life, they dare.
Shadows speckle the reclining pavement
Crows alight and take flight.
A tree revels in youthful bloom
Replete, with fire and passion for life.
Its bloody flowers, burning flames.
The creeping wines, their beaming bells,
Golden flowers sprinkled at my feet;
I step side and let them lie
Trampling them would be a crime.
I slow down my steps and lap up the sights
Delicate hands sooth my knitted brows
I pick up the flower and wonder-
'Frail it is so'. A tenderness floods me.
I haven't the hope or faith or love,
I've suffered moments of strife and doubt
And asked myself while fighting tears-
Does 'to be ' hold any meaning anymore?
Yet these are - sights, sounds and scents
things I cannot give up - I hold them dear
My lips are pursed as I tell myself
No. Not on this sunny day.
So I choose to remain
If not to excel, If not to lead,
To soak up like a sponge
The last drops from my cup, half-filled.