It slips, from after to for,
thoughts and fronts that set events apart
even when we begrudgingly admit that
there is no way to return to the start.
yet simple yearning lends the blind to the I,
scientifically speaking at least,
we see only what we want,
until forced back into someone else’s reality.
Never said it would be, easy, uncomplicated,
to land completely, softly, on one’s feet
when walking on an unfamiliar highway,
a simple thank you would be too cheesy.
Mind, if may, the world ends in unpredictable ways,
even when foreshadowed or expected,
all that once was known, and chosen,
disappears in the unknown science of blue eyes.
How? How did before exist
without the comfort of laughter and warmth,
and the poet once said
terror was the sure sign of the right way.
But how could that ever be known
if no one ever said anything about easy and hard,
and the heart is simply a muscle
doomed to fail from the start.
Maybe this is all circular,
a repeat of life that never learns,
or maybe it is something rare,
amongst a thousand other rare bits, pieces and time.
Maybe, the after of the before wasn’t appreciated,
until now, this moment, this second
that will never be recreated
because going back was never an option,
or this is simply a babbling in search of a brook.
A purpose, an understanding,
that the I has fallen before the u
in the alphabet for reasons not meant for our comprehension.
Just appreciate the order, the after of the before,
knowing that knowing this existence is peculiar,
different, a chance,
for this to be set apart.