A Dream Returned Home- The Ancient One

Unpenned, not erased
Did nervousness perhaps stall?
Until the last day?

I find hands aching
Like an echo from the first
Feeling absent form

"We will write the next."
These words buoy hardest times
Somehow still not stale

I find you wide eyed
A sip of coffee sets tone
Launching our vessel

Still I bite my tongue
With one question on my mind
But mine to answer

Information seeps
Spilling forth reflexively
I can’t help but parse

"How does this puzzle
Result in what I have seen?"
"Time, Times, Half A Time."

Frustrating echo
Still, the touch of your hand sooths
As if yesterday

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Step by Step On The Open Ocean

Hope's Bedtime Story

Love even your worst enemy