traveling
across a span of years and miles, seamlessly,
bent on knowing
what these feelings are that I must feel —
heavily
believing in the moments and the words to come,
barely showing
cognizance of what the signs reveal —
there, among the crowds and clouds,
a kind of picture growing,
of why it is the wind will burn
and why it must keep blowing —
paradox —
emotions essence, shadows of a summer day
that tarries
after all the light has has gone —
serenaded
by a song whose singer breaks the span of time
and carries
with it dreams of all those yesterdays