his cold, damp fingers reached for faraway and drifting clouds while
he couldn’t discern where he was or how he got to “no where.”
he’d scaled magnificent edifices and complex mausoleums
only to find that it’s a long way between heaven and there.
loneliness and longing competed for his attention,
courting him all the while he was unfaithful
and longing for the caress of the sun
where birds sing carefree songs
of freedom and lovely things
and rainbows jut from
distant horizons with
a promise from
in his thoughts
and he’s removed from
the gray and dismay that
cold, damp fingers reach toward.
the winds are frigid against his numb ears
but the howls of the winds are akin to birds singing
and the clouds that drift above are clearing the gray away
to reveal the sun that was promised some time and heartbreak ago.
and he thinks of her and her knowing smile and though he doesn’t know her,
one day she will come with the rainbows that jut from the horizons and she’ll smell
like gardenias while hope will dance and cast shadows across her lips and entice him to reach
for her. where he once reached from no where into no where, he now knows where he is. now here.