We are given allowances
even when ego steps inside what ought to be
a spiritual epiphany,
a moment that might suggest
all else falls into place
because only
love
might create an opinion
an alternative,
a suggestion of knowing
such a reckoning,
is a necessary precursor
toward allowing our imagination
to thrive,
inside the beauty of Grace,
of woman,
of man,
of human,
sweet is the notion of
forgiveness,
in love.
Another previous autumn,
though morning spectacular,
on this occasion,
did I the writer,
affirm what true love did mean
feeling the crystalizing tremor
in my heart,
near my soul,
knowing now,
I might never turn back,
though being told,
I would always be one
rather than having the fortune
to share such a love
with her mystique,
a wonder I had observed
with so much passion
years earlier,
and this morning,
the two of us
in each other’s arms,
we were our eyes,
and nothing really mattered,
except time,
always in our way,
telling us no,
when for hours we had experienced
the beauty and grace of,
the beauty of,
this love.
© Scott F Savage 2019
 | a quiet man on Haiku Love |
 | Yernasia Quorelios on Haiku Love |
| a quiet man on I Took A Walk |
 | Priti on I Took A Walk |
| Priti on I Took A Walk |
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
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