'TOO OUR LAST GOODBYE'

'TOO OUR LAST GOODBYE'
Author: Dawseen Spiri Auslost

A poetical love in the mist of slowly drifting hearts closer, then farther, than one may wish for nor the other foreseen.

I feel in my every walk of life, each direction foretells my every step of the past. Is this mortal heart in which came into a vessel full of new wonders slowly grinning inward, only in fear of not hearing the sounds of the passing warmth of red?

As a man grows, the memories of young dreams and goals hold the moisture within the air in which keeps the future an uncertain guarantee lingering and yet still alive.

I , as do many, can not perceive the way we live our lives and the goals we may achieve. We all long for companionship and connectivity that goes beyond God, beyond our fellow companions, beyond our own warm hearts, longer to be the one, who sometimes, holds on an knows in the same matter when to let go.

There is no such thing as pain in which we suffer. For we suffer because we ourselves caused the pain of another. Living day to week then years with such a burden holds not only regret but uncertainty of letting yourself love ever once more.

Nothing is new under the morning star in which keeps all life alive. Losing someone in the regrets of your own self, is as easily healed as any mere human giving back to the farthest and brightest setting in our solar system.

As the hurting man arises each day full of linger an dismay, the sun rises in hopes to enlighten ones inner means.
Noting but the settling crisp night sky a moons lights now guiding his slumber journey home.

As many see this man, as many see the sun, or love or pain or regret, of sometimes yourself, do not try an remember the reasons for the meanings in the past dwellings.

Rather, then looking back and forcefully walking in a mindless directional pull, be the blind man who helps the seeing. Be the cripple who lends his chair to the man who scuffled at his presence.
Be the man who gives the theft a penny for his thoughts.

Take the holes in another's shoes and patch then up with yours, for walking without comfort an protection is a blessing. Wishing you never will, is the inevitable future we all face.

Many desirer the most sometimes.

For others, in return of something many desire.
In happenstance occurrences, sometimes the few will seek endlessly to gain something many never will attain.

Love.

TO BE CONTINUED...