Whatever life may not be
It may not be the lulling memories of an ardent book you read With the tender crackling whispers of the fireplace
It may never be the Implacable cold snow that morphs into beautiful fireflies at the edge of the dreamers Camelot
Neither get the laudation worth a king’s ransom as My eyes forever close to see your maddening smile
Whatever life may not be.......
It is felt...
Felt by the hot breath of the newborn you hold as you gently pat its wrinkly hair
Felt by the dry breath of the old lost in the rhythm of time
Felt by the incoherent scratches on a bench in a classroom beckoning to remember
Felt by the lonely footprints by the cliff you took
Felt by the misty tears on a letter  crumbled in the trash
Whatever life may not be.... it is felt