When I need,

that,

that finds no want

reciprocating.

Only  

that lack itself

as proof

that,

no two ways

may, combined

bring that

that,

first and last

best,

part once found

in Me Back

It is the peace
Of this moment
It seems to flow
Out, down, along
Familiar creases
Of an aged and worn,
Tired face gazing up
Slight smile playing
A sigh so soft, goes
As colors, every one
I had ever known, rise
And falling, but gently
Floating and growing
Once free those lips
Smiling now, slightly
These shades feel right
Like lightning in a storm,
Waves crashing, the sun rising
Outside of time, I am,
Brilliant and wonderful
I escape, this,
at long last
Reuniting, as
and of now
every color
of this, that, known
Now, this
The way of ending
that thought, so brief
Than, No more
and I am at peace.
I am found.  
Content.
Welcomed Home.
I am returned,
Unto and throughout,
Every rainbow,
all the colors of this world.

I am...

Beautiful.

Without sight, I have only
And, am only reflection
A man, on a declining path.
Looking up at his past
Amazed at the hope embodied.
With no outlet, or connection
I am simply over come
In a color of a mood
Opaque and deeply dark
What have I done

Why we weave our own messes
And these knots that seem so random
Are all but instead they are our ways
Safe like a blanket made from our patterns

The cat eyes the person that delivers the food.
Never questioning if they might not one day.

This is all I needed from you.