Dining On the Ship of Dreams

Idle the waves.
Temperate the speed.
Port and starboard of one’s life
Balanced,
Righted,
Afloat with winged calm.

How beautiful the setting,
Etched history of crystal refracting sun's horizon
While overhead beams of Edison
Highlight floral accents so small,
Yet to some,
So prescient in scope.

They love me, they love me not
Serenades us in silence,
Knowing today’s gentle petals
Will soon begin their own withering respite.

Alone, perhaps,
But, oh, such a celebratory buffet.

Having chosen lightly from life's infatuation,
The naked salads sprouted from grist,
Moisten the eyes with the tenuous dressings of mixed emotion.

A few quick blinks…

And the palate is reminded where the banquet early began,
Once simply samplings of raw growth,
Now homogenized into a tenuous dessert,
Beneath a sweet and sour guise.

Inhaling deeply,
Time beckons quiet breezes
To curve comforting auras about our mind,
Soothe unhealed scars within our heart.

Oh, the remembering.

The remembering

We pause…

The breathing of our after-dinner cordial
Awaits our taste of resolve,
Even as the waft of espresso
Alerts our senses to tomorrows
Not yet lived.

We ask…

Might this be only one such night,
One such pause to consider yet another day,
Another breath?

Silence delivers the answer.

The mind and heart’s tenacity,
That place where imagination knows no end,
Always ready to invite one’s next actuality,
Patiently waits Neverland's satiated moment.

Some…

Dining alone on the ship of dreams,
Knows belief need never wane,
Even as one’s sun is setting.

Can any deny Fellini’s art conveyed such belief so well?