I think the hardest part
is not giving up hope
when the world
beneath your feet.
To always remember there is some greater destiny,
some perfect wrinkle in fate
that is leading things to be this way.
The hardest part is not kicking off your shoes
and waiting for starvation to swallow you.
It’s the rainbow after the downpour,
the ray of light through the curtains,
the stars that twinkle at night.
It’s in the flowers that die
and lie frozen beneath our feet
only to return, triumphant, in spring
ever more beautiful.
It’s the sparkle in your smile.
It’s what keeps me standing here,
all these years,
though your footsteps have long since past.
But all I can do is hope, and be here,
for the day when you come back.