How Celebratory
by Odin Roark

To know romance is borne
Of definitions unknown,
Of vibrations beyond sentient grasp
Where resides imagination sans ownership,
Is to know the illusive magic.

For where else would such intuit dwell,
If not in the discovered world
Of the undiscovered,
Accessible to only those of courage,
Those unafraid of illusion’s magic
Of disappointment,
Where a fractured heart,
Made open and vulnerable
By willingness to suffer,
Finds solace in anticipation.

Experience shadows
Tomorrow’s longing,
Yesterday’s regrets,
And somewhere within,
Where past,
Present,
And future,
Are of no consequence,
Rests life’s intimate reward,
The essence of amour.

That longing
Found void so often,
Only to be resurrected
When one’s time is again ready,
Awaits the moment.

Thrown arms in the air,
Smiles of rainbow and sunset glory,
Know so well,
Like tomorrow’s sunrise,
That the true embrace
Of enigma’s prized possession
Will appear
Again
And
Again.

Dream

Such vast auras of who you are
Are floating everywhere—
Precious fragments of life’s romance.

How celebratory.