Juncture

What fills your moments,

your dreams.. .. ..

an upturned face,

a pensive look,

a certain quixotic perspective

while

standing at the cross roads of illusion .. with no return,

no restitution,

no appeals for a redo,

you move on . . . and

the dream is often all you hold

seeping through your hands.. .. ..

and while you stand amazed,

at that moment

you stand alone and ponder,

that choice so like

the rainbow . . . a quick hello

and then goodbye . . .

ephemeral as a dewdrop

a point of egress .. .. ..

the door is closed

and all is lost

so much is gained. . . 

a kaleidoscope of ambition

you never realize the reason,

the purpose

is not within your sight

but all the glory is there .. .. .. for

with spirit wings

you fly above the crowds

and see . . .

M^^W