Intangible
Illusive as my thoughts,
Fleeting as a moment,
She winds up in my dreams,
Where she is safe and secure
Away from my fears, unable to fall
She's quiet and shy,
I sometimes wonder why,
She's always as bright as the stars in the sky
She speaks without words,
Yet they are as clear to me as crystal,
I hold onto her like a doll,
One made of porcelain
She gathers adoration and places it like a foundation,
Brick by brick, making it secure, making a wall,
Almost as if she is afraid to fall
Fall away from me, unable to be returned,
Again I am afraid, afraid to be burned
Scared of the loss, scarred by the thought,
All that I have gone through has all been for naught
Everyday a different deal,
Another day filled with feelings I didn't want to feel,
Live and let live... isn't that what they say?
Wonder if I can live like that day after day?
June 8, 2001
Loneliness accompanied by the early twenty's angst created this poem. I was finished university, moved into a new town in a new province for a new job. No reminders of home or of the things I knew and loved. There was always a seeping of negative thoughts "I haven't done enough", "I'm not as far in life as I should be by this age", "My plans have not worked out".But the funny thing is that in that mode in that time of my life I feel I did my best writing. Following this year I found my wife and became better at balancing work life and home life. But by doing so, the equilibrium didn't bring any turmoil, no inner strife (well none that I put on paper).
