On the quest of Lighter than

Why do we dream of endless nights
and forlorn wisdom like it would matter?
What is the form of impeccable
that you would cling to?
I could go on over the days
about hard labor
and golden sunrise that falls,
not on the ground and its seed,
but on me. And only for a little while.

It is for reason that I refrain. The time
to make this thought your own
will only last as long as you want it.
It will only come once you have
fondled it, tasted it, and are ready. There is
nothing more that I could show you.
Nothing and everything
sits waiting in your own head.

It is all there. Even though it never has been.

How long until tomorrow gets here,
and what then will you do?