THIS ONE’s A POEM

You were clear when we met this was going to be a long haul. When we met, you made it clear how long the hall would be. All that time I was not listening. I did not stop listening to the sound of the brook running away. Now I am here and you are not. I want to talk to you, trapped on a train that cannot run away. I want to run away with you. Instead, we are trapped in a train of thought not of our own making. It is unbearable. My heart squeezed into chambers too small to fit. It is unfathomable, my heart expanding to fit spaces I didn’t know existed. Unbelievable longing, butterflies exist in my stomachs cavity.
Whoever knew they were the same butterflies? I always knew there was only one butterfly.
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It is not my fault if I cannot stop seeking it. It is not the seeker who finds fault in the perfect petals. Wings flap against the night sky. I wouldn’t bother with those things now. Now I know the night sky is a perfect way to open the flap to the other side. 


Long ago, you told me you accepted this outcome. This outcome you could never have foreseen so long ago. Only a minute now, only a minute. If you return to my heart, all the next moments are only a minute. If, never returning to my heart, you are lost, one minute will stretch out to infinity. It is impossible to know before that futures undecided moment what I have learned.
What I have learned will depend on what I have lost. I refuse to except any loss except the loss of lovein my heart. That had not been lost. 


You know that at any moment you could pick up the phone , that no distance would exist?  I know that no distance is contained by broken telephones. 


What sounds would I show you if I had all night? Have you heard stars falling? I would show you, again. Have you heard of fire flies dancing? This too, I would show you. 


I stop to remember these ideas bring you discomfort. The pressure is not what you think it is, though it is immense. I remember to stop thinking about your discomfort or at least that is the idea behind this.


I recall the fire in your eyes as the sounds of the night show you how to dance with the stars. 


I always knew how good it was for the soul to break, reform and break again.  It always broke my soul to reform, anew, again. 


In the most simple of moment, everything is clear. It is clear that the simple moments are the most pure. 


Why wait for anything? Waiting is to be avoided by shifting the state of the mind. Anything you are waiting to state shifts you to avoiding the why? Speak the truth.