Trying to find rare people in this world's generation is like trying to find a book in a library of blank pages

"Every time we talk my heart skips a beat.
Because you are that beat.
You are whats keeping me alive."

"Starting to think I wasted my time on you."

I didn’t know your touch

Weary days of overcast thoughts
fill the hours with empty longings
Collections of petals for counting
she loves me, she loves me not
Wandering the world,
taking each day as it comes
Blinded by destinations,
desolate highways of dotted line futures

I didn’t know your smile

When eyes opened,
drenched in fate’s promises
Marigold fields whispered
on calling breezes
Shifting sunlight shadows
leading a desperate direction,
tempting my senses,
pulling me towards my every dream

I didn’t know your love

But it was there,
lingering on the horizon,
forming ripples in my heart,
caressing my skin
A constant feather tickling,
bringing happiness to a questioning man,
wondering if I should believe,
would it ever come

I only knew that I needed you

Then when you arrived
the truth became clear
As if I knew you all along,
the mirror of my existence,
that piece of me that was missing
I didn’t know your touch, your smile or your love,
I only knew that I needed you
and now I know I was right

.

I touched the field of amber pleadings
with eyes only sure enough to find that hidden light
Long lost in the sea of forgotten grasses,
brown from the sun, parched by a drought,
exhaling diversions as I stand facing time,
expecting faces to appear but hands caught the sorrow,
passing it down to an earth that is baked and sore,
thirsting for more, a longer plain in this universe

Weeping cocoons snug in the brambles
oblivious to what the outside wears,
blend in with the endings slowly creeping
awaiting metamorphosis
as a tree falls, no noise, no energy for that
Rooted in dismay, clogged by last season’s air,
pausing only to capture one final view
of the smoke stacks, brick faced commandos,
circular spewing pillars
where beneath wealth is created
but eternity is shortened at wholesale prices

Grey skies, a constant color
pressing doom and gloom
into the landscape, fitted like wedges
force fed in spoonfuls of ignorance
Gathering place settings at my feet,
stirring up dust, blurring the wishers
wondering where the water went,
dry beds, serpentine emptiness,
spilling into garbage piles where lakes once
reflected the ripples as they slowly left,
as not even mud stands a fighting chance

When on a hill I see them, the youth,
our future, backpacks and bubblegum,
ear buds and sunglasses, well meaning,
looking for the next iphone, not being taught
that an apple is actually a fruit
Reading comic books about heroes,
caped crusaders who will save the planet
(that must be what the S stands for)
one colored page at a time

And I sit in the dirt, leaving my impression
for that is all I have left, no answers that
have not been asked, no solutions
that remain passed over, just a wild hair
out of place in this take all world
as highways trickle across farm lands
and corn fields are as barren as my stare

But there is hope…there is always hope...

I hope