Almost seen / Being still
Sorrow mounts wing again,
this 'lost' voice with none to hear,
hanging weightless, universe amidst.
Few known, know not, and hope . . .
for comfort not sought . . . within.
Ramparts of joy out of reach,
languishing they sit, anchored in sorrow,
sharing in false relief, without hope of better.
Perhaps I have helped, sharing,
though soaring high, deep in sorrow,
still, hoping for a friend
who may loose the great joy . . .
Outstretched wings covering, still,
great distance, effortless . . .
seeking wellspring to drink.
Lifelong search, almost seen . . .