sit and wait
outside the gates
of my tomorrows.
My mind feels hollow.
The molten skies
are whispering in hues
of gold and blue.
cast of clouds
begins its proud review.
Gray on gray
instead of I love you.
castles in the air
produce an optic glare.
Intense, the dreams are lingering,
outdistancing the care of here and now.
into the past to find the future.
Wondering what effort really mattered.
Notice the rainbows all have
scattered into nothing there at all.
mountains rise to take a bow.
The valleys teach them how to fall.
Fog whispering in rebounds of recall.
Creation seems impossible somehow.
wisps of mist can't capture it.
The patterns have been drawn and knit
into a destiny that drifts away.
I wonder what it really means - to be.
so I sit, and so I wait,
outside the gates of all of my tomorrows.
The emptiness within my mind seems hallowed.
An opening. The sun streams in.
The molecules begin to spin again...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2004 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .