tomorrow exists within the confines of a sonnet.
it sings to me sweetly, calming words which reflect
the promise of the days to come.
and i can smile,
and i can look to the stars
and sense the wonder of a child again
as i ponder simpler questions
with grander implications
such as, why do the heavens, in their glorious expanse
seem to engulf me in a blanket of stars?
is it because the night sky panorama is somehow
larger, or because i see myself in a portrait
and know, one being cannot exist by himself?
why is it that when i behold
something as ordinary as the moon
i can see the portal to the horizon
and revel in the wind with
humble appreciation?
the combination of particles blowing through my hair
is the combination of voices chanting out, leading me
toward paradoxes and puzzles, symphonies and soliloquies,
patiently awaiting the dawn to dream of dances
and partners
and hope and peace
and simple tranquility
and promise and change
and the knowledge that the future,
once so startlingly uncertain
has now become an open book
with pages desperate to be filled by us.
i step through the door and into the days which follow
and interlace my fingers with the hand reaching out for mine
knowing that whatever might come, whomever i shall
meet from this day forth, and whatever i shall do…
… i do not face it alone.
