Waiting for the Distant Sun

Cold floor, lying idle

I see you.

I stroke your hair and offer my cuddle.

Too fond of yourself, too precious to lose

Overly ambitous heart often leads you to woe.

There and there my beautiful self

See my effort to count them as loss

Indeed they are lost to me.

For I have been taught to know better

and I have been taught to want better

The repetitive exercise of surrender

is the least I can do.

Whatever gain I had, they are to be yours

Dancing shadows, swirling vine

Enough to resist without knowing the cause.

So I spin in my yellow dress

My arms held open wide

I laugh, I look up and I see you

in the land behind the moon.

- Lois O -