Fourth Line

Wind of confusion
hiding simple truths
I gave my heart to
long ago.

Not forgotten,
only briefly clouded
by floating dust
of old temptations.

And by tears
that blur my vision,
summoning fantasies
long abandoned.

I turn away,
in solitary stillness
of my own
free will.

Treasure found
yet never held,
only in the giving
is there joy.

Thirst

When I was very little and got thirsty, I'd imagine I was in the desert, parched, staggering amid the dunes, aaaaah, for some water! I'd wait as long as I could and then fill a glass from the tap (my oasis) -- it was so delicious, so precious, and I appreciated it so much.

Still do that every now and then.