Good Way

I am an appointment
Admittedly one for which you and I
Know not the time or the place
You will show, dear one
On time

On purpose, I am
Not a side-trip or just-passing-through
The destination you charted and planned
You will know my name
With time

The neighborhood, am I!
The where you grew up and longingly miss
The haunt of where you’ve not yet lived
You will call me Home
In time

An Appeal

Others’ voices
Talking to
Talking at
And never with
The other
Conversations in kind, not in fact

Open windows
I’m forced
I’m compelled
And in good faith
I’m open
Answers to be sought, with courage

The Rest

There is no sleep due you, no matter the hour -and the work you’ve put in lies in escrow- so, should you decide to denounce the dark, come to the table and smile, you will find what’s waited there for you throughout the time you spent wasting your allegiance to some greyish space you’d grasped while grieving another’s hopelessness projected onto Your skin: renounce your faith in That, now.