top of page

A Mystery

​​

I thought your rising was a star,
but there you are, just out of reach,
some dull glitter of the moment.

​

In your eyes I saw an image,
a vision of sorrow reflected there.
In your eyes I saw my future,
a glimpse of tomorrow, a shadow of despair.

​

Still, I kept going on, dreaming,
believing in fantasies;
and I kept holding on, hoping
one day you would return.

​

With your mark upon my soul
I can never be whole,

and after years of waiting
for the sun to pass my way
it came to me yesterday,
although I cannot say
I understand it.

 

As if you had planned it
to be a mystery,
it is to me.


04/20/1977

bottom of page