Appearing, disappearing, arriving and then leaving so it goes,

you visit and depart through mind’s long shadowed halls,

and in the doing test my heart for all the feeling long unknown;

reminding me that love can never be denied and always calls.

Those images drawn in sharp and indistinct demand of thought,

and huddled in between the taunts and shapes of grief,

are somehow like you and yet not because they are not caught

in all reality would have you be, no longer here in stark relief.

To touch and feel material and what the senses fully know,

imagination cannot bring what is not here in this material world,

just glimpses, presence, senses and that feeling that was shown,

as you in this world, standing here, your Self in flesh; not just Soul.

In yearning for return of what was once a part of life in form,

desiring that once more the warmth of skin and smile be seen,

is natural and part of all that human life would have be born;

and yet the fates decree it is not so for now; you are just dream.


About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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