Today

(Wheeling, WV, US – Jan 2^nd 2014)
(Just so you know I still write poems little bro)

There is always tomorrow… (Or is it?)

There is always enough time, in our little finite lives of infinites

To love a bit more

To feel a little more

To laugh once more

To cry again

(Or can we?)

All around us are miracles.

The snow vastly cleanses the mountains high and the river low,

(the shaken branches, the shivered bears, the swimming fishes, and the broken souls)

The sunlight falls over the shades of turquoise in the ocean,

(and illuminates all other colors that you and I both once loved)

The lingering sound of the rain deafens the cries of the wolves,

(of the young mothers who lose their babies, of the fallen dying deer on the side walk)

The quiet scent of spring awakens in each cherry blossoms, wild dandelions,  

(each of the gentle strands in your hair, the lasting touch of your fingers the morning of goodbyes)

That gaze in your eyes

is the miracle of life itself,

(that made me fall in love and broke my heart)

all condensed in exact one moment.

Why wait my darlings,

when all surround us are miracles?

To love a bit more

To feel a little more

To laugh once more

To cry again

(Shall we?)

There maybe tomorrow

(that I really don’t know. I was once sure, but I am no longer)

There is today

Life is both infinite and finite

Life is both fragile and everlasting

(Life is kind of like you and I,

star-crossed yet ever-loving.

Or was it just me, alone in all this duality?)

Tomorrow. Today.