Pining for this embrace was such, reveries dazed me many a week
Seized finally by your strength, meek.. Maelstrom of fears; it lingered yet. Persisting in spite of your voice. Braving assurance. “Have faith.” “Don’t fret.”
Therein raged this worry or that; is it really safe? Did I do right by that?
I used to thread on cloudy roads. There never was a promise kept.
And the dust settled, there being no saviors, neither they nor faith.
Aged now those lessons, dread is a scaffold. Courage is cement.
Complete I was, convinced too by then—Nothing was lacking. I swore and I said.
Pining for this embrace was such, it’s proving me all but a fool.
Like dawn it broke through certainties kept. Now, I’m threading in this whirlpool.
You are not mine. You can’t be kept. I came to be much past the date.
But yes. I’ll pay the price to pine no more and call it fate!…
If so only for a moment?… I crave this love still, thirty odd years too late.
Hold me closer. Pining still is such.
I forgot ever having yearned this much?
Dusty roads settled, and being complete, I buried it all.
You notwithstanding, no faith nor saviors. A farce. The gall.
Hold me closer.
Katerine de la Rosa, Poetry Editor