Before It's Too Late

I remember that semester,
Fatigue was embedded so deeply within me,
That from you I sought succor,
To remedy the ennui --
And I didn't even know who you were,
Just that I wanted to have you in my gravity...


So I found this name in the class roster,
And decided to send an e-mail,
Not knowing whether I'd receive an answer,
Much less if it was the right soul I was attempting to channel --
But under the auspices of a higher power,
My anxiety was quelled,
When you replied within an hour,
Divulging your dreams and desires --
Not much from me you withheld.


Thus, alow that vespertine shroud,
Amidst those brisk, November winds,
Not just was succor found;
I, too, made a beautiful, new friend,
Whose shadow, when cast upon the ground,
Would juxtapose mine and grow closer 'til they intertwined --
At least that's what I'd imagined...


And exactly what did I fancy?
That I'd be to you what Poe was to that
Maiden who lived in a kingdom by the sea --
You are as fair and radiant as she,
I believed you'd be the one,
To show me love with the depths of an ocean;
However, sitting here in front of this monitor,
Now, I couldn't be any more sequestered,
Deprived of the provender that is the feeling that descends,
Whenever you're in my vicinity.


You are beautiful,
And christen the ground upon which you amble;
Your heart is aureate and bottomless,
With a spirit that rivals the towering pines of a forest --
Yes, cariña, you're that magnanimous...
Like the day's first rays that upon mountaintops straddle,
Such is the resplendence of your very soul...
And I yearn to once more be in your pull.


A veces... yo sueño de tí,
Pervading my subconscious, tantalizing,
With scenes that aren't hazy,
But couldn't be any further from the real thing;
And when night to day cedes,
Like well-being, my dreams, too, fade to nothing,
Taking you in its congé --
"Bye-bye," yet another abrupt ending...


And just like those dreams,
Brevity denoted the time spent vis-à-vis with you --
Never idling, rapacious, like a man driven in pursuit --
Time was too calibrated a machine...
I was too meek...
And still I write more than I speak --
Though it was through writing your interest I piqued...
Now, in the face of continuous progression,
I seek to use my mulligan -- but not, first, without your permission.


Just one more chance --
That highly coveted shot at redemption,
If not to romance,
To witness your heavenly ascension,
Transfixed by your effulgence,
When amongst the stars you find your position --
You're made of all the right components...
And soon life will become all you've envisioned.


It's bound to happen.




- Kevin B. Waring