Would we be fools to dream?
Better to live in an illusion than face reality and fade?
If life is a spiral of growth, as round we go and each time more is grasped, where is it we meet our pinnacle, our destiny, or is it our fate? When time has stood still?
It never did in my hands, nor face, nor soul, but Alpha and Omega burned from behind my eyes.
The light you found, dims as I see times cruelty where nothing exists beyond its passing.
The tick stopped only for moments and in them, everything, eternally everything and nothing, made sense; those moments when I thought I found you.
Now I bow to the force of gravity, not fighting the ache in my bones except to meet a new sun. Now, I let you go just as you did so you could live; now I hold my flowers wilted with hat shading me from daylight. I wait staring to sea, as in paintings of me I did when seventeen. You look at me again then and I will be little, not great, and I will call you Dear one.
But I held you (as you did me) so I can breathe.
And on the shore of then, the ocean of tears-never-found will wash me away finally.