I Write Poetry
If distance is just another measure of time,
How do you measure the distance
Between your heart and mine?
If my grasping hand closes on nothing but thin air,
How is that I can close my eyes
And it’s like you’re right there?
Miles stretch in an endless ribbon of missed moments,
Each step, every second filled with missing memories.
If all good things are promised to those who wait,
Why do I feel this urgency… this need…
To push the hand of fate?
If I can hear your voice as if you’re right here,
Why can’t I feel the warmth of your breath
When you whisper in my ear?
Time flows past, faster than my simple mind can grasp,
The current pulling me somewhere I can’t yet see.
If the shortest trip is traveled in a straight line,
How do you explain this wandering path
That carried your heart to mine?
If I can see you smile and the deep blue of your eyes,
How is it that I can’t hold your face gently
And kiss your cheeks when you cry?
The wind blows through your hair before sliding across my face.
You’re close enough to feel, but too damned far to touch.
