Last Night…
by Odin Roark

Can last night make the morning vanish?

Where once there were sunrises waiting to be seen,
even when clouds seemed heavy,
and somewhere in last night’s time in between,
emptiness filled the sky,
where once bright reminders pointed
to dawns of tomorrow,
and memories yet to come,
their road signs undiscovered,
their mystery to be revealed.

Still…

There was the awakening,
and last night became today,
all that seemed possible but ethereal
into the passing mist of the mind’s drifting fog,
the shorelines of my inner-self no longer seeming reachable,
and once friendly trade winds steered afar,
where once their warmth cradled my solitude,
filling the blackness of sky with bright reminders
pointing to dawns of tomorrow.

Are there…

So many memories yet to come,
their road signs undiscovered,
patiently waiting beneath the mist of anticipation?

Perhaps.

Hope being ingrained,
we struggle,
we toss and turn,
we open our eyes
hoping to bring forth new beginnings,
for the clock knows not to repeat itself,
it can only continue forward as time.

Trust…

Meditation…

Belief…

What else do we have?

Residue,
the baggage of experience
cannot be left behind,
for reverie is forever stubborn,
no matter how hard we try
to implore last night
to make the morning vanish.

Let we forget…

We worship time.

It ignores us.