It is here that I wait

Every day,

Each time I feel like I am close

The shift is apparent,

Once again, left to imagine,

Without circling any reality.

If I could imagine the beauty of a flower,

Rising through the soil

Arching its naked back,

Vulnerable to the rain skies,

A harsh wind,

The natural bounty of the earth,

Any manner of breeze or

The heavy step of man,

We are all just that close

To having our stems broken

By the reality of our pain,

Always waiting nearby,

Hanging around,

Like shadows along the alleyway,

Never loud,

Always there,

Just waiting,

Wondering if you could ever mind,

Actually having their presence,

Let you,

Just allow you the one time,

To step inside, and view your life from afar,

Where they stood,

Just waiting,

Mock less your reasoning.