Certain Days

On certain days, I’m moved only by a tailwind, The breathing of the sky, the cadence of my heart. On special days, I know only the imagined, The sanguine waltz cascading from the start. Some days, I just inhale the spice of powder earth, The emanations of every life force I behold. I dwell in iterations, the treasures of life I unearth, Each moment is serendipitous, so wondrous, and bold. On given days, I inhabit my core quiet, my still pond, In touch with my tranquil repose, my smooth slumber. I center in my soothing moment, never looking beyond, I may be circumspect in my introspection, but never somber. On different days, I drift on tidal dreams of many moons, The wash of whispering oceans, and undiscovered seas. I breathe in the briny fever of green, my private lagoons. I savor the firmament, all the pleasures felt with ease. On other days, I carry the chorus of every endearing flame, Every deep carnal craving recalled, renewed, and revived, I regret all the lost loves for which I am solely to blame. Repairing my past, I long to heal all those I have deprived. On certain days, I’m moved only by a tailwind, I touch my reset button to live all my life in the imagined.