Just cleaning out my old files in the backup drive, and ran across some old poems. A lot of them are sad but strangely hopeful. The people that know me well would understand I’m sure. Some were written ages ago, some are more recent. Reading them is like looking back on a moment in time, and trying to remember what was going on in your life and in your mind then. This poem is one of the less recent, but one that I never got around to making a title for…

Was it the day, when you called my name?
Was it the night dreams pulled the curtains from my eyes,
And sang your song to me under a starlit sky?

Was it the echo, in windless air?
Was it the voice, or simply the feeling,
That tore bare the empty spaces in my heart as much as it fills them?

I look into your eyes,
And I see everything
Though you feel you are nothing

When will you see me, for all that I am?
Will you be able to love me, for all that I'm not,
And listen to my foolish dreams, that vanish into nothing in morning?

Will there ever come a day when you will say,
I am real, and I am here now,
Take my hand by light of day, and wipe my tears away?

I dream of you
And feel so empty,
But the hope that you will someday come is everything.