What Will Be (A Poem)

front door

Today, I imagined
That someone came up the steps
to the orange door
To my bright yellow bungalow.
He was following behind me,
And I opened the door,
I turned to smile at him
And took his hand
And led him inside.

I’m not telling any more about that,
(She says, with a wink and a smile).

But it was nice.
It was fresh,
And sweet,
And loving
And fun.

There were no games.
There was no pain.
There was steamy breath
In the air conditioned room.
The palm fronds swept against the porch
And a tropical wind blew across the deck.

I didn’t think about my past.
I didn’t think about my future.
I was happy
In the moment
With this man who was no longer
A stranger to me.

He’s waiting for me there.
He may not know it, yet,
But sure enough,
He’ll tell me that he has been
After we meet,
When we dance up the steps,
Into my front door,
And close the door on the world.

5 responses to “What Will Be (A Poem)

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s