ever ending happiness
reaches out to grace the hand so delicately
of a friend known oh, too well
for where comfort finds despair?
everywhere, all around us, our lives we bear.
a hand so delicate as death,
once a gleaming youth well-lived
but how could we know?
with the greatest gleaming light
comes the farthest corners of darkness
and we, suffering souls, are but trapped in our ever loving, beating hearts.
ever a life worth taking?
ever a deepest wound worth bearing-
we happen upon our sadness in the oft’ presence of hope.
and though dreams shed a glum light on reality
we live on, because we are filled with it, a third eye—
–seeing the turtle’s waves crashing across a forever horizon
and ever still looking beyond, beyond,