and I stood there,
galvanized by my
self-imposed exile

feeling fragmented
my silhouette fragile
yet bold and defined

and thru bright glass
I saw him perch, just
to take a rest

molding a new reality
from an empty
broken nest

A raindrop fell
from the leaf
of an evergreen

just natures hint
of winters
arriving wrath

recalling how we
shined so brightly
I remembered...

ever so brilliant
it seemed that
really, at any

given moment
we might just
burst into flames

a mourning dove
at dusk taking flight
with a broken wing

and I realized,
in solumn
retrospect

the madness of
life, of nature
of death

so beautiful
in its
simplicity

forever complex
in its
continuity

and with untamed
emotions I stared
at that dove

I stepped out of
my darkness and
into love and

I saw reality
I grasped it
unafraid

and with no
hidden agenda
I surrendered

and that dove
he continued
to perch upon

my leafy branches
debating flight and
what were his chances

with a broken wing
and a weary
heart and

doves are not meant
to take flight
in the dark

and blue is
the color of
distant eyes

and today I saw
a mourning dove
cry...