In those moments we cannot hold,

we imagine, re-examine, and find focus.

An internal measure wants to scream,

While on the outside, a quiet smile.

–

With a full moon knocking at my door,

I could feel the cosmos in our grips.

The orb hanging in the stillness,

a mystique, gasps volumes of analysis.

–

Again we’re back inside engaging,

“I want this, I had this, there it is again.”

Left streaming through miles of thought.

Contemplate, how do we measure peace?

–

Outside the idea, a world in flourish

while we the onlooker, measure our worth.