miracles
It’s been seven days
and in my haze of insomniac wake
I recognize the masochistic traits in counting hours
so I wait
until another thought comes to mind,
before I begin relentlessly counting time.
Time has been the motivation for everything the past several months.
Times’ pushed me to do the what is hard,
to do what I want,
to get to where will be more free,
just so soon I can use time as I please.
You’re not even tangible
these nights I need you most.
But somebody good told me recently
love can be a miracle
she laughed as to make it light
but I declared it in my mind, this weeks most
truest truth,
and my God, have I been thanking my stars,
for the miracle that
is you.
It’s true that distance makes the heart grow fonder
I can hardly endure any longer.
My heart takes the minutes and weaves them into hours.
What’s beautiful, is even your absence,
I have felt you encourage me.
I’ve fallen down hard after enduring enough
and then I swear, somehow felt your strong hands hold me up.
It puts a lump in my throat
and a hope in my heart,
the ephinay you’re my miracle,
and nothing
not even the moon
can is more real to me than you.
Oxymoron emotions
like how I’m crumbling;
and then hypnotized by possibility,
like no matter how strong this storm grows in me,
there’s a calm that keeps me rooted.
Something good in you
began to blossom something good in me,
and like tree branches the roots made
the whole thing stronger.
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