Sometimes (circa Christmas-time of another year)

Sometimes you come back to life,

Sometimes you are a memory on fast-forward,

Sometimes you cry, sometimes you laugh,

Sometimes you stay a little while longer.

Sometimes a picture is all it takes.

Sometimes I find you in unexpected places—

Bureaus, songs, and books.

Sometimes it is just a piece of paper,

Sometimes your smile curving deviously

Around the bends and stretches of my mind,

Sometimes this takes more from me

Than I was ever willing to give,

Though what I gave was the last of what I had.

I have been afraid since then,

I have not shared, I have not opened.

Four years ago, around this time

We sat around Ray, and I hoped.

I prayed and was answered:

The new year sprung into bloom.

And sometimes it still seems so wrong.

I ended much, but ruined more.

Now you are but a ghost,

Drifting about, dancing every now and then,

Into my heart, into my soul,

On the steps of great halls,

In the dawn of your glory.

Sometimes I miss your calm,

The way you understood even though you did not,

The reassuring glance only possessed by one who loves,

Unsure, but willing to give deeper,

To explore in the face of fear,

And yet know not fear.

For fear has no place in love.

Then what am I, my dear?

I am lost, as we speak,

and yet, I know I am somewhere new.

This is not easier,

Indeed it makes our life seem to have been

More at ease.

Something about the simplicity,

Something about the fervor,

Something about the vivacious drive for life,

I have not been captured since.

Hehehe, but I am free.

For I have actually been caught by another,

Who cast forth nets to bring me ashore,

To a distant shore,

And there, my no longer, shall I remain.