The Walk

Perhaps my time with her was for the winter
Perhaps was for the time alone
Perhaps she came to send me
On that walk for all my time

All I know is that I miss that rain
I miss that quiet
I miss that love and peace I'd rediscovered that day...
I found that '...which I may desire...'
She did come in truth
More truth than I've ever known.
But lost that Home that I'd built myself.

Where is it?
Encapsulated in chemicals?
Folded up in books stored tatered and moldy?
I cannot and she would not keep me from it.
I failed to fully communicate the richness of winter in my heart, so it became hidden and lost and foriegn.

It's not frightening.
It's not dangerous.
I'll never let it harm you.
But to keep this huge huge part of me hibernating endlessly will surely kill the 3 of us
The you, the me, the we.

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