My life is now an endless path,

long as in any town, though

it’s a blind alley, curving slow.

This road has gardens, houses, trees,

wisps of breeze like feathers falling

from open sky, eternally.

There are no clocks along the way,

no chiming bells, just the rise of air

that rings the present through

the muted traffic, driving the echo

of your listening that stills my voice –

a muffled wheel, a whirring dynamo.

Astir in sudden silence: you,

my only friend. Hidden ally,

tell me, are you there for me?

If I could find you, just once,

I’d find the end of the road and long

to start again, with you, at the beginning.