VIII: Eternally (Librarian III)

What thoughts are these that think of you

Through hours alone by nights?

The ones in sleep through dreams ensue

In verse awake incites.

Asleep I fall to land at feet

And praise what fortune hands.

Awake I jump to fly with beat

As wing in flight expands.

If woven words could win your gaze,

A poem latch turnkey,

Then cast to depths with me ablaze

To write eternally.

• April 2025