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.
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