Quiet Reflections


A few days went by, a coupe of sunsets

mostly the rains, he’d been used to their

discretion, every day a new pattern

would remind him again how far apart …


Together time measured only  a faint

recall when her lips would touch his own.

A cool winter night, warmth, each other

near to knowing this celebration of love.


In the quiet of an early night sky, Chopin

wrote is masterwork, while we might wander

our own mind wanting answers long before even

a legitimate question might lay to reset his wish.


He did now wish only her response that she would hear

his cry in the solemn night where he did now wander alone.

~ finding my way l a personal journey ~