When People Do Depart

Years ago,

with a stamp and a leap of faith,

I would begin my wait,

until one sunny afternoon, I would see the delivery,

always hoping you might be there,

to say hello,

~

So often as the gravel chimed my feet,

I would hear your voice again,

through the words on paper,

a parchment even in your selection

would offer solace,

in knowing there was a care,

for every aspect of your return.

~

i would then smile,

imagine the next round, our continued love affair,

miles away, yet immediately bound,

by the words we awaited, we lived for, we delighted

in realizing when they returned our thoughts,

the imagery in our mind,

remained strong, and evident, and real,

again.

~

Today, is it too easy to be swooned,

by the romantic nature of our words,

by our ability to recognize truth,

by our willingness to be vulnerable,

by the sheer virtue that sometimes our words …

are all we are,

remaining,

left behind,

in the immediacy.

Beauty’s Repose

© ester rogers

© ester rogers

***

In twilight hour

when moonlit streaks

in nighttime waves,

sudden urges mount

a heavy heart

to wonder when, maybe how,

in the brightness of day,

the change will be made.

Such round orb mentality

skewed resource of fragile

strength within the heart’s

own organic timing,

waits again for fear and indecision

purveyors of frailty.

As children our eyes

looked into the night sky

while idle threate

left themselves at our door

as magical monsters,

under our beds, safely odd.

Tonight in a lit sky

a future relevance

speaks more clearly

than a windswept morning

soon to drift past

the time of reckoned need.

The human mind,

once known as power,

now retreats home,

so we might allow

our soul to wander

quiet in beauty’s repose.