When Walking Alone
There is a difference in tone,
a solitary figure in a moonlit backdrop,
the sky is a canvas capable of new horizons,
if only for a moment the character
might stand completely still.
Completely still inside a memory,
holding onto the silence,
a wishful recall
a sweet response to time
is all the solitary figure might choose.
Might choose offers certain doubt,
when realizing how time plays a role
in knowing love,
he does want to stand there forever,
in the hope that stillness might be a blessing.
She is that fond imagination,
the caress of somber spirituality,
the sort that energy
speaks of out loud
without any reservation, ever.
I once recall a story of a man,
caught inside a cycle of quiet remind,
always pushing, forever angling,
imagining the final stride would
accentuate his peak, yet the fall …
There is a breaking point in sanity,
when beyond the notion of real,
the body might sacrifice comfort,
instead a forever lust toward peace,
will always compel a forgiveness ahead.
When walking alone hopeful by design,
I would the eternal march quiet resign.