Desperation Crying Out
by Odin Roark

Love’s desperation crying out
is only an instant,
such time and space
mere footsteps floating above the sand
beneath the blink of eternity's cosmic pulse.

Intervals shadow
these tiny grains of past and present,
the conscious oneness of our light and dark times,
the singularity of affection’s collective nature
patiently searching,
allowing the unexpected,
unknowingly experiencing vibrations
of distant resonance.

For some,
once grounded,
this sudden reflection of being
seems safely at rest.
For others,
firm footing eludes their effort.
For most,
stumbling through insecurity
remains habit's twisted comfort.

Nevertheless
the journey of all that is
continues its everyday migration
across and through the passage of time,
sometimes seen,
sometimes heard,
occasionally felt.

How patient and precious this enigma
of emotion,
waiting,
cautiously aware passion itself
might some day
experience its own black hole of desperation.

Such is the quest and arrival at self love,
the first and last chapter of one’s voluminous journey
into the capricious nature of happiness.