She dresses herself and complains
She dresses herself and complains
Her socks don’t match
the ones She wants are in the wash
but these will do today
She kisses me goodbye at school
briefer every day
i tell Her i’m late and
wave absentmindedly
She tells me when i pick Her up
“look what I made today”
i tell Her that it’s beautiful
but later throw it away
She wants to play when we get home
i’m pretty busy though
i have a lot of work to do and still
haven’t washed those socks
She wants to read a book with me
before going to bed
i read too fast and think of something
i forgot today
She sleeps and i remember what it was
that slipped my busy mind
i forgot to be the father
that i had expected to be
She wakes me in the morning
wanting breakfast
something She can put sugar on
if you don’t mind
i don’t mind
patience, the ellusive virtue
patience, the ellusive virtue
a foggy, distant shape
eludes and dances crazily
while it makes me wait
funny how the focus shifts
from never to maybe and then
something bumps the lens and moves
it back to never again
and then of course there are the moments
and then of course there are the moments
not quite in focus
yet intensely bright and wishful.
a strange mixture of fact, emotion and dream.
projecting themselves into the
uneven crevices
formed between past and now
shielded by those weathered things
overgrown and protective
and confused
i often (seldom) consider that these
moments
might neither become more focused nor clear
forever
by one more sunday morning on the porch
I met a man who had traveled far.
I met a man who had traveled far.
“Show me a place where I’ll find love.”, I said
It was a long journey
We walked for many days
We came to a beautiful white place.
He said, “This is where you wished to go.”
I asked if he was coming too
He answered, “No, I’ve been here before.”
And sadly walked on.
As Never walked along with me
As Never walked along with me
we talked of many things
of wishes dreams and how it seems
that Sometimes never sings
when Always passed she wouldn’t say
what road she’d been upon
so (joined by wistful Yesterday)
the three of us walked on
the lighthouse keeps moving!
the lighthouse keeps moving!
(is it supposed to do that?)
what with all these rocks around
and everything.
And no sign of the fog lifting.
it whispers and whorls
it whispers and whorls
beneath the senseless grinning.
the little unseen urging
and never spoken thing.
it hints of things of wonder
and wishing oft and quietly.
but the tongue that could speak
and make real these things
becomes tangled by the
pervasive fear of you.
and all that is wondered
and wished for remains
a deeply vicious longing.
and becomes and is
nothing.
the nothing is missing
the nothing is missing
the answer used so often
is nowhere to be found
the never is gone
no longer following when
and before the sigh
the mine is lost
replaced it seems by our
and not even missed
I’m sorry
I’m sorry
what were you saying?
I was just noticing
how that tree
reminds me of something.
I wrote you that last time
I wrote you that last time
telling you I did not love you
It was not time for us
You were not ready
I was not ready
It was not right
We were not perfect
So I moved on and you let me
Except that
What I meant
Instead of “not”
was “now”