---

 

∴

tomorrow

tomorrow

tomorrow
…

 

i have never feared
and wanted more

another thing.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

please
do not pull
at these heart strings,
for they are tightly wound
and trying.

to raise children
and rise bread
and straining to hear
what my conscience said.

 

please
do not put up a mirror

for i must make of me
my true humanity
and this i cannot see
from the glass,

not even
the glass of your eye.

 

please
do not wait, anymore.

i am closing these doors.

 

and all that i feel
will be deftly concealed
for the sake
of strong steps
to tomorrow.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

it can all go away:

the houses
the jobs
the clothes
the drama
the boredom
the fight
the joy
the building
the bridge,

the words.

 

it’s hardest
when the words
go away.

 

they take the time with them.

 

but
who we are,
who we were,
who we will always be,

in the sacred spaces
that see us, truly –

those silent,
transient places –

those clear and sober faces –

that
does not
go away.

 

it cannot.

it cannot.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

do you remember
when we got to be
who we really are
for just that one moment
under the moon
on the deck
in the silence
far away
from each other
and never closer?

 

there is a part of me
that wants to miss that

as if it were something
we could get again.

 

no.

even the moon
knows that.

 

the sun may rise
and make the days,

but the memory of moonlight
remembers us
to real-er selves

and rises
the corners of my mouth
in thanksgiving.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

the truth is…

hard to say,
harder to know
and not say,
and harder still,
not to know.

 

the truth is…

the only thing
that doesn’t get stuck in your mouth
when you finally spit it out.

 

the truth is…

heavier when held.

 

the truth is…

the clear-seer,
the liberator,
the course-setter.

 

the truth is…

rarely kind,
but always works
in our best interest.

 

the truth is…

the greatest stumbling block
that is impossible
to move without.

 

the truth is…

the only thing
that could save us,
my love,
now,
when all things are uncertain.
let us not keep behind curtains,
the cruel and unconditional friend
that would let us be whole again.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

i would give
very nearly everything
to have a home in you.

i think i did.

i think i do.

 

but what i wouldn’t give,
is what i couldn’t give,
for without it,
i myself
would cease to live.

 

if you should ask that of me,
you and i
would cease to be

and what a tragedy
that would be.

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

is there a number
to all these stars?

besides the ones
that map the skies
and direct the sailors
who gliding go
without mountains
or trees
to guide them?

is there a quantification
to the vast expanse
that lies between land marks
and constellations?

for the constellations have stories
and the landmarks have past.

so what do we count on
when we live between that
which is numbered
and nothing at all?

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

charting one’s progress
is somewhat like chasing
a singular firefly.

you may see it,
off in the distance
and decide quickly
to pursue it,

or you may let it beg
a few disporting blinks
before turning toward the call.

it’s nearly impossible
not
to follow
a firefly.

 

but progress,
just like a little lantern,
only clues you in to it’s course
on occasion.

just when you thought
you’d lost the trail completely,

you find it landed
on your shoulder,
perhaps too close to see,

and intoning direction
with light.

∴

 

 

 

---

 

---

∴

i miss the exhilaration
of being in love
with someone
who loves me back,
just as much,
and in the same way.

 

i wonder
if it was ever exactly like that,
anyway,

 

or if i had just adopted
fiction
as my own proven past
and kept it
like flags and family crests –

dreams –

of entitled expectation,
hoisted on the horizon.

 

weren’t we young once?
and in love?

i cannot recall,

i cannot recall.

 

love owes us nothing,
yet we owe everything to it.

funny, that.

no?

∴

 

 

---

 

---

∴

i was trying to learn a new song
and my teacher said,

“it’s just like in life,
you know,
if you lose your place,
you just have to
do your best
to catch up.*”

there’s no sense
in playing the same wrong note
over
and over

and the song does go on

whether you join it or not.

 

better to sing a contribution
of sustained substance
than to echo mute dissonance
in the discordant tritones
of regret.

∴

 

 

---

*Finnish musician Antti Järvelä,
discussing perseverance in the learning of new things.