Almost

This is your life,
a sun that you can almost see just behind the clouds,
a season you can sense, almost there. but not quite,
A God who calls to you in whispers,

wisdom that dances in the wind, then is gone,
love, almost,
the smell of distant wood stoves, without the heat,
the truth, almost, like a dream,

a tease that keeps you alive,
reaching, hoping,
stumbling forward like a drunk
reaching for the next glass

About this poem

It seems like I say “some day” or “When….” a lot. I am trying to catch myself on this. Today is enough. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it.

The picture of the sun trying to find it’s way out of the clouds was taken here in West Pawlet.

Tom