Dear Awaited,
If I knew why I write
I probably would not be writing to you
I write not because I want to
I write not because I have to
I write because I'm taken back by your reality
I write to empty the tears in my pen
I write because I could not write before
Until that day
When you took a step followed by another
Into my home
Upon ebullient breaths of dawn
You greeted my pen one morn
I write because it's seen your soul
And it's tripped over its lines
And fallen
Into and unto its pages
Pages only my heart can read
As my pen sits upon its podium
Writing away
With the flow of ink
Steady and thick
A little twist and turn here
Into letters forming what I think
Reflected in these letters is a portrait
Underneath the paint a tangle of confusion
Hope and fear
As if I've birthed a thousand stars
Yet darkness surrounds me everywhere
I offer you my self portrait
So you may consider my soul
Knowing I can only reach you through words
Knowing you are reading this somewhere
So what if
What if you were a boat sailing into my imagination
Sailing so deep you collided with the rocks of reality
What if the figments of my imagination are shadows of what's real?
As my mind sits under my heart's tree
Venting thoughts by building cities out of mist
And palaces on the sea
Weaving words into gaps once left by reality
What if the Mahdi appears in us?
Standing against the wall of our hearts
Before he appears against that cubic wall
What if the second coming is the return of the light we were born with?
Unshackling our souls so we may help unshackle the world
I begin to float on the breeze of understanding
Knowing with every heartbeat there's an echo of your footsteps down the hallway
Of time
But here I am, still broken
Falling between these cracks hiding
Flying dreams from land to land
In-between where mountains stand
With words offering my hand
To be taken away with you...
/106