Branches dance bare
blissful breeze
coming warmth soon to be

Do not fret my son,
For the inky depths of night
are false.

The sun with all it's power and glory,
stalks the shadows and lurks behind every black veil.
Waiting to break the blanket of black,
Illuminating all in sight.

When the velvety cloak of darkness swallows you,
remember,
Illumination is waiting to permeate the bleak
and bask you in the light.

I cringe
watching my daily replay.
My thoughts of change
being just that,
thoughts.

Thought never fully brought forth
into the distant light of reality.

The ceiling mocks me
as I lay in bed
in the depths of the night,
plating seeds of a new day
in infertile soil.

My position here has become one of frustration.
I can't help but laugh
at feeble attempts
of reaching higher ground.

Treading water
here in this
cesspool of stale emotion does not bother me.
I only wish to see the shore.

I cannot recall,
the fragrance of your hair nor the sound of your voice.
I am not filled with intricate pictures of our time together.
Only the absence of your presence.

Is this the place for my shoddy meanderings?
Does this digital veil afford me a sense of anonymity?
The people of this world care nothing for my troubles,
yet the need to share draws me to this desk.
If only to undo the biting constraints
modern life so generously affords.
I have no right to declare my hopes, pains,
and loves of no value to the populace.
If not worth anything else,
OUR words may allow us
to touch one another
if only
for a
Minute.

This house of books
with it's smell of
timeless words,
forgotten worlds,
and the human
substance.
Brings me a small
piece of
peace.
A shelter
from the storm
that rages
outside
these walls.