poem

New Life


The fullness of desire is a rushing wind,
that threatens against the tin shack of the mind.

Each gust demands attention,
wooden planks creak, adamant to stay,
iron nails bending from the storm's stress.

I hope to meet the woman who is for me only,
My life's plans dashed against the ground,
all for the possibility of a love pure.

Would you risk your own life,
for the chance of a better one with someone?

Then, I see a vision of her.
She's walking towards me.
Her white gossamer gown's train raised high on the wind.
She waves.
She beacons to me, to come and embrace her.

At first I question, then I run.
Those precious plans strewn as debris upon the earth...
happily forgotten.