New Jeanland

The trust I lost,

Is vested in insecurity, and 

The knowledge that hindsight inflicted, 

So astute, so perfect, in its wise view. 

Granted now, time is lost,

Granted the disappearance of them all,

To find the messages once again,

In a tortured memory of my regret.

And to think no one ever should,

Or to think no one can tell. 

I wish for a thousand looks into the future

  being as important as now.  

Yet, still she grants me a moment, and

It is not lost on me how I got here. 

Her’s being just as responsible as mine. 

How can I blame either of us?

Where do I go now for solice?

The painting of a perfect tryst now gone.  

My instincts call for summertime, again.

Scathing freedoms to burn out the chaff.  

Torrid affair so wildly played,

Nevertheless, so impactful. 

I want it, 

And I don’t, … care for consequences,

I wouldn’t find it so formidable, 

If mine own tragedy were not so equal. 

Hail a course around the bitter review,

Finding imaginations of the meeting.

As I am ruining it all.  Or am I? 

No, she restores me once again. 

I humble myself to the equity, and 

Ask for zen above my power to change it,

Granting grace to us both, for,

I cannot bear another moment in the status quo. 

Digital Art Copyright ©️ 2024 Chaia Malana.

https://chaiacreates.com/2024/11/06/pathway-to-the-heavens/