Jan 22
The Past Perfect World
The Past Perfect World
Withered, rooted heart
starved of the fresh clear elixir
Sunset drained of color
Red, pink, blue leached out of a vast sky
Within reach an empty void
No compass
No astrolabe
To reveal a winding road in the dark
Where did it all go?
Innocent optimism
That we can pull free of the vines
That gravity bends itself for us
That the world is our snowglobe
ours to break at will
Reunite the shards
In a plethora of hues
A sea of lavender in a childhood bedroom
Pure silver of the moon within grasp
For this perfect instant
Fallen by a second glance
Enough to have a surreal glow in empty palms
A step here a step there
Lost in the featureless horizon
Gray and blue indistinguishable — a shade too dark for hope
look within the depths swirl your fingers in the sand
This world still has perfection
The perfection of a sand dollar
Of unfettered laughter
Of woven tales told in stretching thread
Roots buried in deep earth- dig it out of misery
repaint the canvas in blooming glory
A garden of small beginnings
full of fallen trees and stubborn shoots
Persisting through the fog
Growing as we dance, unfurl the veil
In every step of bittersweet joy
Just for now
All the now we need
Till time ticks down to memory
