Hoping the Flowers Bloom
Hoping the flowers bloom
Sifting through my day,
withered masses of an old heart
searching in the wrong corner,
dreaming in muted grays on a white background,
wandering through the garden
of my every lost dream,
hoping the flowers bloom . . .
and I get to see them
Long hours only offer relief
when I look past the walls
formed around my smile so long ago,
they are now only a faded memory
flickering in and out,
losing clarity
Then out of nowhere comes a light,
so brilliant, beautiful, electrifying
I can only stare and wonder,
is this for me to keep,
or dare I say . . . to love?
Love, now that’s a laugh
Love only finds those who deserve it
and those signs have long since
pointed a different direction
But a voice speaks otherwise
a soft tone, a sweet noise I’ve not heard
or imagined . . .
When whispers of affection from her
fall upon my ears . . . my ears?
Like I am something, somebody, and it feels good
even if it is still hard to believe
And I feel tears forming, could this be happiness
I ask, when there before my misted eyes
The flowers are blooming . . .
and I can see them
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