Again, toward home I dream. Dream, not walk, nor run, nor fly. Again, toward you. And you, do you still dream? It seems, with myself, that there has always been a leaning toward you. You, who somehow still remind me that one is always (yet not completely) alone.
the cooling breezes
of Autumn remembered full
of woven color
When I first found that we somehow fit, it didn't matter that the future wasn't planned. The tide was high and the sun was shadowed only to cool us in the brightness of passions spent s quickly as they were found. Passions spent too quickly fade without charm.
the moon still pulls her
favored children through nights both
calm and thunderous
Where have we found ourselves, now? Those long ago passions spent, emptied all that we knew-- emptied us so completely, death could not compete with the trick. How many others have you sought? Did you relearn passion's game? Have you learned to spend it wisely? Or not at all?
the turning tides of
Autumn have brought new seasons
of old lives made new
I wish you all the best my friend as I say goodbye and look again. I watch you go, each time, again and again, seeking home. I wonder... Are we each other?