When the morning
is today,
and tomorrow
is far unknown to my mind...
All I want to do is sweep you off your feet,
only I can't feel the ground beneath me
because you've beaten me to it.
I don't know if this moment is all we have.
What is tomorrow?
And old fears, like grey hairs,
make their appearance where and when I least want them.
But if that instant was its own end
(however traumatic the thought),
I realize I live on...
breathing more deeply of life, ever after.
And if there is more to come
of this
of us
then I will strike fire and cascade
across the sky, to burst as truth, laughter,
the falling as light meets light...
I'll return again to the sky, launched again and again
into the firmament by the ever-lit
spark
of your smile.
With my radiance, galaxies are moved.
But you are the sun I turn to.
Eyes are inadequate to see with.
Every day I blink closer to seeing your soul.
Someone said,
If it be now, 'tis not to come;
if it be not to come, it will be now;
if it be not now, yet it will come:
the readiness is all.
Tomorrow may be impossible,
but still I ready myself for it.
Whatever comes.
What are you doing?