We live inside this energy,
want to wrap it around ourselves,
keep the comfort,
feel like we might belong.
Sometimes, we cannot determine,
where it began,
for whom it might matter,
we will look in a mirror alone.
Wonder how long it takes anyone
to know the truth
when a wandering imagination
decides upon just that, a fantasy.
Yet we wait, sometimes without
even a conscientious choice,
we might rather our lives
be intertwined than left aside.
While the questions will remain,
we suddenly feel it in our bones,
on the horizon returns the moon.
Seems sometimes we don’t even glance,
our state of mind often, time is chance.
© Scott F Savage 4/2020