The Nightingale

The Nightingale

Thoughts of you like the Emperor’s nightingale

Singing in the corridors of these days in waiting

Released and flying, expelled into the blue

Wanting to think of you, yet parceled

Into a measure secluded behind these routine bastions

To mitigate the remembrance of a prospered feeling

Growing from the entry of your scent into my olfactory processes

Percolating the desire to know more and more

The key has passed the lock and the bird has flown

Behind these structured clouds of monotonous constructions

Of educational and professional pursuits froth with logic and purpose

And yet I wish to dissolve them into an ethereal wall

Passing through the tolls in time that must be collected

To acquire such luxuries and closing every door behind me

In hope to find the patience to wait to see you again

Yet in the rafters of every room, fluttering onto a settled perch

I see the nightingale feathered in full voice

Serenading my passing moments like a

Swarming accoutrement of heart  

That I can not help but want

Wondering if it is in you to wish to follow me

If you had the freedom of time in wings

If that is what your heart may bloom unto

I pray these days will unfold you

From an origami bird of all that has turned

The corners of my life into flesh of now of how

I can answer that exhausted question in the

Duality of a balancing response

For a need for something I can not yet be

Hoping the egg is hatching within you and warming

Under my embrace to gestate the time in which these

Inherent responses to your presence become commensurate

With that which we have shared.