There is a cold wind
blowing outside,
into the graying,
an apocalyptic sky
The lamps are lit
The night descends
it comes as it always does
My table is cluttered
with wadded paper
scribblings saying nothing
The hanging question you asked
remains
"What is your heart's desire?"
The light it flickers
Throwing shadows on the wall
So eerie at first,
So familiar after all
Fantasies
Phantasims
Hypnogogic imagery
A trance like state of mind
Many lifetimes pass
None of them mine
What is your heart's desire
It strangles the mind with possibilities
Waiting for the tell,
the tell that might never come.
You asked me
as we left the foggy meadow
"You who speak so highly of the little synchronicites,
But what is your heart's desire? "
I rise with the sun each day
My path laid out before me
I do this and that in order
Each night as the dark descends
The day's vivid light has vanished
I stare into this lamp light
and wonder
what is my heart's desire.