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

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