Seventy Six . . .

Threshold

By Stormcat

there is no answer . . . there is no question

I contemplate her and she baffles me

I analyze her and she baffles me

I approach her and she baffles me

I feel for her life force  and, yes, yet again,

                                                 she baffles me

I used to think I understood gray

now having met her I realize otherwise

words are easy but I can't make up feelings

experience is the poet's cruel taskmaster

if I want to write the crisis then I have to

                                               pay the price

I don't have another love in me though, yet

even knowing, that there is none left after this,

I've given it all to her and I can't take it back

I wait at the threshold hoping she will join me

together we will walk on air to joy, alone I go

                                                to my abyss

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