Maybe Tomorrow


Pastel skies creep in at dawn to whisper me awake.
Seemingly eternal, I fight my nature to trust their sincerity.

Awareness of my quietude pumps through me like a river running north-
so much so that my blood sustains a deafening pulse of its own.

Every cell leaps forth in desperate attempts to find an outward host.
I rise to greet their daily need to both love and be loved.

My left side proves as barren as my right forcing me above and within.
The ache to give extends its reach once more, almost serving to deliver a counter offering.

I rise on fuel self-given and risk the day planting flowers I know may never bloom.
Seeds of promise call me to my center; I cannot afford to slow my harvest.

I wish to witness the blossoming I so crave,
I dream the day away and gladly endure the Indian summer heat.

Glitter on the wind mingling with scents of subtle jasmine fill my senses.
They trigger the depths of me and I am once again held captive by my need to dance with someone through them.

I wonder who you are and who is loving you today, do they know you're bound?
I ache to know the route to you and why you'll wish to read this story of mine.

I am the keeper of all things sacred to you,
I am ready for your heavy burdens for they prove weightless on my back.

I tuck my heart back inside where it is safe through the midnight hours.
Covered in stardust, I turn my back to the dark of night and whisper back to the dawn in which I cannot yet see,

"Maybe tomorrow."

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