While Hope Closes the Door

There are times alone, my mind decides
He must go take a stroll,

And leaves my body — blank eyed stare—
To touch all he beholds.

He flows out, hovered above the ground.
He shifts upon the breeze.

He touches things we can’t believe,
A love we cannot see.

But wishing of new vantage point,
He always does return,

And brings with him the deepest sigh
And all that he has learned.

Patiently, he tries to tell
Of his new found truths.

And every time I wave him off.
It’s all just so aloof!


But when I hear of wars, of hate,
Of evils of mankind,

Of poor and suffering ones of us,
Neighbors we leave behind,

And find myself, like all the rest,
Just hoping it away,

I cannot help but hate myself,
All I am, and that I’ve been,

And turn to those moments...those dreamlike times...
When life was something more,

And hope one day I’ll understand,
While hope closes the door.