I know color spectrums in the lining
of your lunar heart won’t always shine
in ethereal radiance...
Won’t always embrace the warmth
but I pray…
I really do,
that you comprehend and see that even nightfall
is created with predominant vibrancy,
those snowy silvers, heroic hues, brutal days
of unyielding fortitude.
I pray the same extremities that
interlace pledges and promises within mine
discover space and measured time to
misplace it’s inhale moving aimlessly
in your yesterdays and an infinity
that knows no rouge.
Grief… will certainly select its numbers.
It will position itself at the lottery level,
a mega million reasons and ways
to allow misery to be the power play,
while pain and loneliness stand in line
with anticipatory scratch-offs.
I pray you feel the sincerity of my heart
beating in soft cadence and incantations
of comforting rhymes,
when I tell you to keep your head up…
because great vibrations don’t pause for
absolute lines remain lethargic in wait
just to bathe your intellectual gifts
with a daily dose of daily bread…
when your true conviction... is to feed your soul.