I love the daily-autumns when
you appear before my eyes
not thought of, but wanted anyhow,
like a fleeting vision in a morning dream.
In the middle of hurting toil
at the center of breaking my neck
a distant voice makes me look at it
and the sight and sound are both yours.
And the years fly, as old-rains fall,
lightning strikes, landscapes change,
dreams revised, but you won't let me die,
I forget you much, but you find me more.
To forget your faces, forget your voices,
forget the times you helped me through,
forget your lessons, forget the hurts,
is something you won't let me do.
When days are a drag, people bitch
the gods sleepy, and angels untrue,
in the gloomy isolation, amazingly
you refresh my spirit, my soul anew.
I wait a sec, just to look back,
at the times when my hell was due,
no life, no luck, no change, no light,
no way, no star, no hope, no you.
Then I leap to now, to praise the face,
of this marvel that I just ran into,
of life, of luck, of change, of light,
of ways, of stars, of hope, of you.