nefelibata

Dear Universe,
                        If you would be so kind,
                           throw me a green light,
                               a beacon for an exit sign,
                                  and show me the way out.

A path travelled by those
 who have left me behind.

They leave.
And I turn blind.
Staring at the sun.
Never finding a light.

Perhaps there is more hope
 to be found in the moon.

An orb in the dark,
  counselling the night,
     never to hear the words from my head.

Shallow,
 senseless questions,
     capitalised I
         with an underline.

I count as far as four.
Four for hope, love.
Four for lost.
Eight for confused.
Maybe that could be me + you.

My plans for the day are much less
  complex than you might expect.

I plan to stand here,
  with no clouds to disguise the sky,
     and stare upwards.

Searching for what I have lost:
  the warmth,
     the glow,
         the guidance up above.

The sign which men use to time their lives.
I wish it could bring back mine.

When there is nothing left to give,
    other than what you are waiting to receive,
            you may spend your days
               stinging your eyes,
                   looking at white skies,
                     Trying to find,
                       What grows beneath
                            Planted feet.