Drifting Until
Drifting along to a merrily sung tune,
discontent shadowed by fickle smiles;
disbelief blemished by random happiness.
I often embrace causal melancholy
like a well worn jacket
with lots of pockets.
Until …
Strange images arise from my morning’s chats
with the unblemished side
of tomorrow’s possibilities.
I lost a tad in the discussion
with not much guidance
from the heart.
Until …
Righteous wanderings lead me slightly left
of a possibly good time.
I say good morning;
just a nice phrase
that sometimes misses the
point.
Until she
burned my world
with her fierce intent
and delicate eyes.
Blessed my world
with angelic grace
and whispered sighs.
Driven by passionate heat,
she surrounds this
stillness,
this earth
with risen desire
and hints of embrace.
She whispered.
“Sometimes tomorrow is tomorrow
and nothing changes that
like today.”
